Redemption is a Process
by HowlynMad
Summary: Sylar/Claire-PRT 10 Posted- Sylar & Claire's life together is about to change. Peter tries to make a friend. And Angela meddles w/the future... Can Sylar fight his nature to find redemption?
1. Part 1

Redemption is a Process

_Sylar and Angela_

_PrimaTech Facility, Hartsdale, New York_

_The American Heritage dictionary defines redemption as the act of being saved from sin. It's a deceptively simple explanation for a decidedly complicated process._

_For instance, it doesn't really clarify if the one being redeemed has to find absolution himself or rather it can only be offered by those in a position to grant such forgiveness. Those that were wronged._

_Religion offers many answers but depending on what faith you follow those answers might be vastly different. Some say only god can grant salvation and through his grace will come forgiveness. But what if god has forsaken you?_

_Who can offer you redemption then? And what if there is a part of you that doesn't want salvation? A monster that lives in your soul feeding in the darkness._

_Or maybe it's simply a biological imperative. _

0-0-0-0-0

The door opened wide of its own accord as Sylar strolled into Angela's office. "Hey grams what's up?"

"Must you call me that?"

"Yeah I know, I'm a little old, but it does annoy the hell out of you.. which is the point."

Angela sighed. Sylar might be twenty seven but his emotional stability was such that sometimes it was like dealing with a small mischievous boy. It would do no good to call him on it. He was looking for a reaction.

He plopped down into the nearest chair, slouching over to one side so that he could hang one long leg over the padded arm.

Angela waved a stack of files at him. "I want to talk to you about your performance of late."

Sylar grinned, obviously pleased, "Seven in the last two months. I may single handedly take down the entire population."

"Out of the seven you only brought four back to the facility."

"Yeah well, you know how it goes. Things happen."

"That's three major abilities in two months you've taken."

"So."

"So… you're as high as a kite."

Sylar snorted lightly, "Is there some law against feeling good?"

"When your "feeling good" makes you highly aggressive and.. hard to deal with.. yes. You threatened two of my agents."

"Maybe your agents should stay out of my way."

"Gabriel, you know as well as I do that you soak up a lot more than just power when you feed. I'd hate to see what your neuro-transmitter levels look like right now. Your brain is probably lit up like a neon sign. All those hormones, steroids, dopamines, and other chemicals make you a lot more dangerous for the rest of us to be around."

Angela walked over and sat on the arm of the chair. She began to stroke his hair lightly. "I know you don't want to do anything you'd regret."

"Don't you mean do anything that_** you'd**_ regret?" he replied with a smirk on his face. "I don't really do empathy remember."

"The more you feed the hungrier you'll get. The compulsion will take over and you'll become unstable. Is that really what you want? To become nothing more than a killer."

"I am a killer… a predator. That doesn't change even if you have me on a leash."

"You need some time to dry out Gabriel. I'm going to pull you off active duty for a couple of months to give your new powers time to metabolize properly and I want you to be a good boy and accept it." She leaned into him and wrapped her arm around him.

He stiffened under her touch. Sylar didn't like to be told what to do under the best of circumstances but Angela knew that showing any weakness while he was in this state of mind was inviting disaster. He needed to be reminded who was still in charge.

"You could spend more time with Claire. You know how she worries when you're off on assignment."

He jerked away from her embrace. "I can handle Claire."

"Hm. I wasn't aware that she needed to be _handled_ but that is, of course, your affair." Angela rose and walked back around the desk, "That is, so long as you're taking proper care of her."

"Are you questioning my ability to take care of my wife?" Sylar's voice grew louder.

Angela knew family was always a sore spot with him. "I'm questioning your self control in your current state of mind."

Sylar rose from his seat slowly. "I think I have more self control than you realize. Otherwise you'd need to worry about now." His voice was low and chilling.

Angela studied his face. His eyes had gone so dark they were almost black.. almost. His aggression level was reaching the boiling point. It was unlikely he would listen to reason until his neuro-transmitter levels returned to something nearer to normal... Sylar normal. But would he abstain on his own? Or would she be required to take action to keep him from hunting. Angela came to a decision.

"You're on limited duty for two months. No bag and tag assignments period. I'll re-evaluate your behavior at that time. I'd also like you to see Doctor Simons on the way out and give him a sample so we can see just how elevated your levels are at the moment. I'd like to gauge when it's safe for you to feed again without.. adverse reactions."

"Fuck that."

Angela's eyebrows rose. He was a lot further gone than she first anticipated. Sylar had a certain odd respect for women especially mother-figures. It didn't stop him from brutally killing the fairer sex when he wanted a power but for him to be so crass to her meant that he was closer to a violent outburst than she first thought. Though it really shouldn't have surprised her as the powers he had absorbed were all formidable abilities. She would have to move quickly and with caution.

"If you please, language." She needed to reassert that motherly influence. "Don't be that way Gabriel. You know I'm doing what I think is best for you. Haven't I kept my word? Taken care of you? Helped you with Claire? … fed you. I care about you."

His face was hard. "I'm not stupid. I know what you care about."

Angela nodded, "But that doesn't mean that I can't care about you too. We all have a monster inside us. I've dealt with more than my share over the years. I won't turn away from you Gabriel, not ever." She walked up close to him and lay her hands on his chest. "I promise I won't run away."

Sylar cocked his head studying her. She was suddenly glad that he had yet to gain any other overt mental abilities. The passive qualities of eidetic memory combined with his intuitive aptitude was bad enough. The look he was giving her at the moment made her think he'd like to rip her thoughts from her head.

He nodded slowly, "That's good." He lay his hands over hers, "Because.. prey runs."

_Noah Bennet_

_PrimaTech Facility, Hartsdale, New York_

Noah paced the room like a caged tiger. Word from the field was that Sylar had taken out another target, absorbing yet another ability, that made three in just two months at the company. They were oh-so-pleased with his performance. They should be terrified.

It made his blood run cold to think of the amount of power that monster had taken already. It should frighten the hell out of his superiors. But all they saw was the potential ways they could use that power. Why couldn't they see that Sylar would allow them to use him only so long as he received benefit.

But even that was no guarantee that he wouldn't grow bored of being their pet despite regular feedings. When that happened he would slaughter them all. The sheer arrogance of the company left him feeling that they deserved what they got but unfortunately Claire was right in the middle of this mess.

Claire. His face became a mask of sadness. She wouldn't even talk to him. He'd tried to apologize numerous times but she wasn't hearing it. He had been pretty cruel but he thought it was the only way to reach her. But Sylar was manipulating the situation at every turn, playing the victim and offering penance for his crimes. It was sickening. If it was the last thing he ever did on this earth he would make sure that monster suffered for every time he touched Claire.

"You needed to see me Noah?"

"Angela, yes."

"Why don't you walk with me. I have a few things I need to address down on Level 2."

"Sure." Noah fell in step beside her. Their footsteps echoed hollowly against the concrete walls. There was no mistaking the underground levels for anything other than what they were. A prison.

"So what was so urgent that you needed to be excused from an assignment?"

"I read the progress reports on Sylar."

Angela sighed. "Noah, I already warned you about this. Sylar is my responsibility, not yours."

"Three abilities in two months Angela. You and I both know what that means." He had to make her listen. The more abilities Sylar took the more dangerous he became and his daughter was living with him. He couldn't even think about it without becoming slightly queasy.

"Yes, of course I do."

"Well, what are you doing about it?" he snapped.

Angela came to halt, "I know you don't mean to sound like you're demanding answers on how I choose to run this company."

Noah backed off. He needed Angela on his side to keep an eye on Claire for him. "No of course not. I'm just worried about Claire that's all. I apologize."

"I know you are but I can assure you that I am watching out for her."

Noah inwardly scoffed, only so long as it doesn't interfere with _your _plans he thought. "Would you mind telling me what you're going to do about Sylar and his.. addiction?"

"All right Noah, all right. If you must know I've taken him off rotation until the Doctor signs off on his neuro-transmitter levels.

"Is that all?" he couldn't help the bite in his tone.

"Noah, you are trying my patience."

"Claire is your grand-daughter. I would think you'd want to do all you can to get her away from him."

"How many times do we need to go through this? She chose him of her own free will. Unlike you, I'm trying to work with that."

"That's not the whole story and you know it."

"We all make compromises for the greater good. I don't regret my contribution to the situation and I know that despite everything, Claire doesn't either."

Bennet chose to ignore the implication. "You're giving him everything he wants. He's got an all access pass to make himself a God and you're just letting him do it. This will only turn out badly for all of us. Please.. don't put the company ahead of what you know is right."

"Listen to me, we know a lot more about Sylar's pathology than we did before. We're doing all the right things. He'll remain stable and controllable. Claire will be fine."

"Please don't tell me that he has you fooled into believing his shit about not being able to control himself. It's an excuse Angela. He doesn't want to control it. He likes being a monster."

"Which is why he has me… and Claire. We'll remind him that he's human," she replied with certainty.

"If he is human," Noah muttered under his breath.

Angela stopped to look Noah in the eyes, "Sylar is off rotation and his meds have been adjusted accordingly. There's nothing to worry about. Go back to work Noah. Leave Sylar to me... if you ever want Claire to forgive you."

"Has she said anything? About me?" Bennet swallowed the hard lump in his throat.

"I'm afraid not. You weren't really expecting anything were you?"

As if he didn't have reason enough to hate Sylar before.. taking his daughter was the final straw. "You know I didn't mean it!"

"Yes, you did and that's the problem. You accuse me of using Claire for my own ends but I would never disown her for the choice she made. She's done more good than any of us."

"You know why I did what I did. A year ago she would have been trying to help me. It's intolerable! He's playing yet another game and we all know how it will turn out."

"Of course he is, just not in the way you seem to think. Did you ever consider that he'll be a good husband to her for no other reason than to spite you?" she looked him up and down. "You're both so obsessive," Angela shook her head. "Men."

The guard snapped to attention as they approached access to Level 2. "Is there anything else you need?"

"A way to kill Sylar for good?" Noah quipped.

Angela rolled her eyes, "Goodbye Noah. Make sure you see Iverson about your new assignment."

_Sylar_

_PrimaTech, Facility, Hartsdale, New York_

Sylar was seething. Who did they think they were, dictating orders to him? Simons was lucky he didn't fry him where he stood. Two months. Two fucking months before they would let him back on the streets to hunt.. to _recon.. _people with abilities. Sylar smirked. He made them nervous when he used terms like hunting. They should be nervous.

He was well aware of the game that Angela was playing. It was fine with him so long as he got what he needed, but this enforced abstinence… he wasn't having it. He didn't need anyone's permission to do what came naturally to him. When he needed an ability he would take it, end of story.

It was that simple. He didn't expect them to understand and he didn't care if they approved as long as they stayed out of his way.

He paced around the room, his hands clenching and unclenching. He was becoming more agitated by the second. Absorbing powers consecutively did tend to set him on edge but he wasn't about to admit it to Angela or anyone else for that matter. Sylar looked at his hands, they were trembling softly.

He turned his mind's eye inwards following synaptic pathways, tracing the course of chemical interactions within his brain. There _was_ an awful lot of accelerated chemical activity. But he wasn't some slobbering beast. He wasn't out of control. After all, he could hear the prisoners held down in the levels even now and he wasn't wreaking havoc and opening heads. No, he was being a perfect gentleman. No murder.

Sylar reached out, seeking those sweet abilities with his senses. An ultra high frequency sound resonated through his cells and he cringed. The high pitched shriek was usually a prelude to feeding. The idiot he had taken the ability from had only used it for explosive parlor tricks, never even trying to develop the potential. He quickly discovered further uses.

A precise beam of high frequency sound could be used as a cutting tool that was as accurate as a laser. Granted, it was a bit messy but despite a couple of forays into empathic absorption of abilities he'd found it to be the quickest, most effective way of getting to a power. Open them up and let his intuitive aptitude do the rest.

There was no learning curve to speak of as he'd found with empathic absorption. The understanding was immediate and within a few days the new ability was as natural to him as breathing. It took him longer to figure how to incorporate an ability when using empathy, perhaps because he didn't have much of it.

He stopped pacing and plopped down in the nearest chair, where the fuck was Simons with his test results? He wanted to get the hell out of this place with it's steel doors and concrete walls. He'd been imprisoned here once too often for comfort.

Sylar tapped his fingers on the table top. He hadn't mentioned to anyone that another process was even possible for him. Mostly because that would open up a whole big can of ugly-ass worms about how committed he was to his rehabilitation. If anyone found out there was another way for him to feed but he chose murder because it was frankly, easier… well, that might seem like he was a bad person.

Luckily, the only two people that knew were now dead. He thought Peter had some suspicions having traveled to several possible futures/pasts where events often played out much differently. Peter had enough speculative information on him to make him nervous. But so far, nothing had come of it. Probably because Peter had gotten a taste of the hunger up close and personal. He now understood just what it could drive a person to do.

He didn't want to kill. He really didn't. But the urge to acquire was overwhelmingly strong and he simply didn't have enough empathic ability to make taking power that way a viable option. But if he was honest with himself Angela and the others were probably right. The more he killed the less guilt he felt, the less connected he became. Something inside him changed each time he took an ability and it wasn't just about DNA. It was about what it meant to be human. It was something that he was wondering more and more if he still was.

He scowled. If that fucking doctor didn't show in the next five minutes someone was going to get a piece of his mind, Sylar grumbled to himself. "Shit," he stated to no one in particular. Claire would be waiting for him. He just wanted to get home and relax before he crawled out of his skin. He took a deep breath and reached out with his senses again. There were so many abilities swirling around this place it gave him a hard-on. All lined up in the levels below like a buffet. It made his head swim with the need to know. It would be so simple to go down there. So simple to take what he wanted. Enough!

He pulled back his senses from the wretches caged below. No murder. He had just taken an ability two days ago. He didn't need any more powers to digest right now. Sylar nodded absently to himself. He really should go home and be with Claire. She could calm him... and distract him from dangerous thoughts. He was completely in control of himself. No murder.

_Claire Gray_

_New York Apartment_

Claire threw the take-out for two in the microwave. She hadn't heard from Sylar but knew that he was back from his latest assignment. She also knew that he had killed again. Angela hadn't mentioned what abilities he had absorbed but they must have been substantial if she was worried enough to call.

You never knew with Sylar. He would, at times, take one power over another that seemed to make no sense... at least not to anyone but him. He said they were building blocks, that he was taking what he needed to forward his "evolution". He couldn't.. or wouldn't.. elaborate further.

He had been "feeding" too much of late, changing his DNA too rapidly. That was obvious. His attitude was confrontational and aggressive, more so than usual. It was still a strange thing to witness, though she'd been through it more than once. It was like a switch being thrown, like anything human in him was completely submerged and all that was left was the predator.. cold, vicious, deadly.

Of course, many would say that there was nothing human in him to begin with, so the point was moot. A year ago she would have agreed without hesitation but now she had her doubts. He _was_ able to feel and if he could feel he could be influenced. So far, she had been the only one to reach him on that level, to make him listen when he crossed that line.

She had no illusions about Sylar and his "feelings" toward her. He needed her. That was all he was emotionally capable of but as long as he felt that need he would take good care of her. Claire briefly thought of Elle and shivered. She had to remember that Elle had not been a positive, calming, influence on him. On the contrary, she liked to provoke and challenge. Sylar was someone that you really didn't want to push to the limit, his self control over his violent impulses often tenuous at best.

In many ways, the two of them had been very much alike. It was a nightmare Bonnie and Clyde scenario. In the end, Elle's lack of understanding of what she was dealing with in Sylar had probably contributed to her death. At least that's what Claire was currently telling herself. She had her own feelings for Sylar, confused as they were, and she didn't want to think that she was next on the chopping block.

Claire thought she well understood where the line was drawn, when she could or should push and how much. Most of the time she felt secure in the fact that he wouldn't hurt her but when he was high on his new abilities he had little self control. Despite the fact that she was immortal that didn't mean she couldn't be hurt, in many ways. Sylar had proven that to her.

While she was finally able to forgive him for his actions, she would never forget them, never forget what he was. For her own sanity and safety she couldn't. Claire sighed. All this introspection didn't help. It didn't resolve her feelings for someone who was literally a monster. She understood the reasons for her decisions but she might never understand the emotion that lurked behind them.

Angela had asked that she smooth things over with him. She had pulled him from active duty until he stabilized. Apparently, he was not pleased. He would not want to comply. If he couldn't be talked down Angela would escalate control over the situation and Sylar, being Sylar, wouldn't back down. It could get ugly. It had been more than year since Sylar had been on one of his rampages, all-concerned would rather it stayed that way.

Claire chuckled, if anyone had told her a year ago that she would be in a relationship with Sylar she would have laughed in their face. And now… now she had better get her strategy in order for dealing with a husband that wasn't going to be reasonable about his habit of murder.

The microwave dinged. It promised to be an interesting evening.

_Sylar_

_New York Streets_

Sylar walked slowly towards the apartment that the company had provided Claire and himself. He didn't really care about a permanent residence but he knew that Claire did, even if they weren't there most of the time. She was trying to make a home for them. He still found that odd, probably always would. When she had agreed to his proposal he hadn't thought that she would really try to be his wife. The most he thought he could hope for was that she wouldn't try to cut his head off while he slept. But from the very beginning she had stuck to her word. In a way, he admired that. He also thought it stupid in the extreme.

That was one of the reasons he wasn't worried about the opposition. He wasn't thinking about "The Company" or any of their lot. No, they definitely had to be watched. They didn't act with moral considerations. They acted in their own best interests just like he did, _that _he could understand. But even in that, they were predictable.

No, he was talking about the self-appointed protectors of all that was just and good. The insipid little band of Dudley Do-Rights that seemed to delight in trying to thwart him at every turn. In his opinion, the only one that had any real reason to be pissed at him was Mohinder and that was only because their road trip had got a lot more personal than it should have. The geneticist didn't take it very well when he found out who he had really been sleeping with. He carried such a grudge over his father. It was too bad in Sylar's opinion. They had made a good team.

Oh well, Sylar thought, chalk one up for the "good guys". Not that any one of them could really stop him, but as a whole, they were a major pain in his ass. No one person with ability could stand against him anymore. Not even the Haitian could contain him for long on his own, not now.

Well, perhaps one, Peter Petrelli. Peter who mimicked abilities but never really advanced those gifts. He was the worst of all. The eternal boy-scout was insufferable.

He scowled. It was criminal to have such ability and not carry it to its natural conclusion, not that he was entirely sure what that conclusion would be. No, the "good guys" had a code. "Pointless," Sylar mumbled under his breath. Why didn't anyone see that? This wasn't about any notions of good or evil it was simply nature doing what nature does best. Yet Peter tried desperately to hold onto a humanity that was rapidly becoming obsolete. It disgusted him to no end.

Sylar started mentally kicking a small rock ahead of him as he walked. He had honed his telekinesis into a fine weapon. The amount of energy he could bring to bear was enough to flip an armored car and then some. It might not actually be his strongest gift but it was the most useful in its flexibility. He could apply its use to almost anything. He made the rock dance in a figure eight. Fine motor control, he had learned, was as important as brute strength.

They, those that stood in his way, had no idea what he was really capable of. He was entirely unique even amongst his own kind, if he could even call them that, those others with ability. They had no idea yet just how unique. He had been careful to keep his advancements to himself. The scientists at the company still didn't even know what part of his DNA was responsible for his abilities. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards. Oh, they knew that he was strong. That his abilities had increased in strength over time. But what they didn't know was that he was learning how to integrate those abilities into one another.

The rolling rock started to glow red with heat. He was now combining his own abilities into more powerful ones. The first time he had created ice lightning he had been so excited he'd almost told Claire. He'd wanted to share his success with her but in the end he didn't trust her not to run straight to Angela. He couldn't afford their opposition right now. It wouldn't be long before he could create powers on demand. Matter to energy and energy to matter, he would be omnipotent. He could figure it out and he would.

He tried to practice as much as possible but between being watched at work and at home it was slower going than he would like. But he had to make concessions in order for the company to provide him with the raw material he needed to pursue his biological imperative. One day soon he knew he would come across a way to locate people like Molly Walker did but until then he would use his own talents and the resources of the company to bring down as many "dangerous" people with ability as he could. Most wouldn't make it back to the holding facility. Wasn't life grand?

Sylar took a deep breath. The smell of the city was rank. He was glad that his super senses were limited to hearing and eyesight. He didn't think he'd want to deal with super stink even if it was useful. He smiled, Claire would find that amusing. Claire. He had always liked her.. even when he was trying to kill her. She had a determination and spunk, quite different from Mohinder's quiet rage. She reminded him a bit of Elle… only with boundaries and conscience and not so much insanity. That girl really could have driven him to blow up New York.

He paused to wait for the crosswalk light. It was still a sore spot for him. He felt sorta bad about having to kill Elle in the end but the situation became untenable. The company was determined to hunt them down at all costs and he couldn't play her games, their games, and take care of his own needs. In the end, his own needs would always come first. Evolution couldn't be stopped.

Things were different with Claire. He pursued his evolution without (much) hindrance and still had an opportunity for something more. He had thought he was above any of those considerations now but he quickly found that wasn't the case. He hadn't evolved past human emotion, human need. It irked him at times, like it was an inherent weakness that couldn't be excised, but when he calmed down he realized it was probably not the case at all. As his mind and body changed so would his emotional needs. They already had. So until he was to that point he would just have to make concessions for the part of him that still had human desires.

He jammed his hands down deeper into his jacket, he briefly wondered if he would miss those feelings once the time came but that was just insecurity on his part. He shouldn't worry about it. Sylar took another deep breath and launched the small stone into the air until it faded from sight.

_Claire and Sylar_

_Their New York Apartment_

Claire turned to the sound of the door being unlocked. Well here we go, she thought, who will I be dealing with tonight? The man or the monster?

Sylar's eyes were dark and bright, too dark, too bright. She could tell by his body language he was tense. "Hey," she offered.

"Hey," he responded with little emotion.

"I called Eddies and ordered in. I figured you'd want to just kick back at home. I know I'm looking forward to it."

He nodded once and peeled off his jacket tossing it on the nearest chair. She walked up to him and slowly wound her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. Claire knew it was silly but sometimes she could swear she could feel the energies inside him clawing to get out. It was unsettling. "I missed you."

"I doubt that."

The response was devoid of emotion, she wasn't sure whether to take that as a good sign or bad. She sighed softly, "You can tell when I'm lying."

"Oh... yeah."

She looked up to see he had a small smirk on his face. He was messing with her. "Smartass." She stood on her toes and gave him a soft kiss. His eyes were nearly black, not good. "I got you chicken I hope that's ok."

"I'm not very hungry." He pulled her tight into his arms... "At least not for food," he amended.

When most men said that to a beautiful girl in their arms they only meant one thing, with Sylar the possibilities were a bit more complicated. "Well maybe, I can be dessert," she smiled coyly.

"I am fond of sweets." He caressed her hair. Sylar brought his lips to hers crushing her small frame in his hyper-strong embrace. He nuzzled along the line of her neck trailing nips and kisses.

Claire sighed into his mouth, giving herself over to the sensations. Sylar had never been particularly gentle but he did know what he was doing, she'd give him that. Making love with him was like being caught in a storm. You felt somewhat overwhelmed when you were caught up in it and when it was over there was a sense of.. what the hell was that? and can I do it again? She wasn't sure if it was a compliment or not. Now with his hand drawing circles along her back, she decided that it was definitely a compliment.

He pulled away suddenly, turning his back to her. "Chicken huh?" He sat at the table looking down at the covered plate. Sylar gave new meaning to the term passive aggressive.

"Did I do something wrong?"

He picked up a fork and uncovered the plate. "No, you didn't do anything," he replied, his eyes still downcast. Sylar sat the fork back down and raised his black eyes to meet hers. "I don't think you want to be with me right now," he murmured soft and low. "Might be a little.. rough. Give me some time."

"Ok." It wasn't like she needed to ask. He was wound up so tight it was a wonder the walls weren't cracking all around them. It was another odd contradiction of his, his complete control and other times utter lack of it. She sat down across the table from him. "Smells good."

They ate in silence for a few minutes before Sylar offered, "So how did your assignment go? Save any good little boys and girls?"

"A couple," she smiled lightly. "I ran into Hiro and Ando. It was good to see them again."

He nodded. "Still out to save the world?"

"Of course. Can you pass the salt?" she reached out.

"You tell them about us?" he passed over the shaker.

"They already knew we got married. I imagine it was probably quite the gossip on the company grapevine. Probably still is."

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Hiro's so saccharine he probably wished us well."

Claire chuckled lightly, "Well, he was a bit concerned but yeah in the end he did wish us happiness."

Sylar shook his head, "Figures. I don't know which is worse. Hiro or Peter."

"You mean which is worse on the Sylar scale of goody-two-shoes? Peter definitely."

Sylar locked eyes with her. "Why Peter?"

Something in his tone made her pause in mid-bite. The answer was obvious. Hiro had never been a real threat to him, Peter on the other hand proved to be a thorn in his side more than once. But now was probably not a good time to mention that, not when he was in such a volatile state of mind. "I don't know."

"You're lying." His fork clanked loudly when he dropped it against the plate. His voice had become so cold she thought she could see his breath. Maybe she really could.

"I was just hoping to avoid unpleasantness. I'm tired and so are you. Can we just drop it?"

His gaze never left her face then he stood and walked slowly to the window. "I can hear it," he whispered.

"What?" Claire rose and came to stand just behind him. "What?"

"The ticking. I hear it." He leaned his forehead against the window. "I can sense someone out there right now. They're using their ability."

Claire wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. "You don't have to listen to it." A small smile played on his lips, his gaze far away, and he didn't answer. "Sylar, listen to me."

"I hear you. Doesn't change what I want," his voice had dropped an octave.

Claire let her hand trail down below his belt. "Is that all you want?"

There was a sharp intake of breath. "You don't want to do that."

"I know my own mind Sylar. I came into this marriage with my eyes wide open. I know what you're capable of, better than most. If I didn't want this I wouldn't offer. You won't hurt me, you can't anyway. And no, that's not a challenge, so please don't take it as one. Let me give you some peace."

He turned to her. "I don't understand you at all." He brushed his hand along her cheek. "But I'm grateful."

Sylar scooped her into his arms and carried her to their bedroom.

_Sylar_

_Predator and Prey_

Sylar awoke to the sound of Claire's soft breathing. He turned to her and frowned. How the hell had he ended up here? Married to his worst enemy's daughter and working for the company that wanted either to kill him or control him, usually in that order. Life was certainly strange.

There was no point in trying to go back to sleep. He could feel the urge coursing through him. Looking at Claire once more he slid himself lightly off the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans. There were no marks on his skin where Claire had raked her nails down his back and arms anymore than there were bruises and bite marks to mar her perfect porcelain flesh. Their abilities had other less obvious uses.

Daddy's little "ClaireBear" was no innocent, not any more. Sylar smirked.. thanks to him. Claire wasn't technically a virgin when they wed, having once been with a high-school flyboy. But that wasn't really sex, that was two kids playing at what the grown-ups do. He had been more than willing to teach his new wife all about it. He'd been taking it slowly, adding subtle kinks here and there. Learning what she liked and then figuring out how to pervert it. It wasn't meant to hurt her, on the contrary, he was just teaching her all about pleasure in it's many forms. No, the only one he meant to hurt by corrupting Claire was her bastard-father. Sylar knew that his marriage to Claire was eating Bennet up inside. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy in his opinion.

If it was the last thing he ever did he would make sure Bennet paid dearly for everything he had been put through in the last three years. If not for Bennet, he might have been able to control his ability before it evolved into an all consuming hunger. He'd long since come to terms with that hunger but he wouldn't soon forgive those that could have helped him while there was still time, instead choosing to stand-by while he unraveled in the face of a power that sought to overwhelm him.

The apartment was pitch-black but that hardly mattered as he had taken the very handy ability to enhance his vision. He could now easily see in the dark as well as sharper and farther than ever before. He couldn't spot a fly at half a mile yet but with practice it would come.

Sylar padded softly over to the window and pressed his face close. He opened his senses wide and let the sensations wash over him. His eyes dilated fully open, black and shining. It was still there. The trace of the ability that he had sensed earlier. Not too far, he could find the person while it was still night and be back before Claire woke.

He drew in a ragged breath. It had now been three days since he had taken the ability to create a shield of energy around himself. He had already honed it to a degree that it would stop a bullet. Not only did it have the obvious practical applications but something innate told him that it was an ability that he could use in enhancing other of his abilities. Sylar put his palm flat to the window and leaned against it. Three days on his way to two months. Two months that they wanted him to wait before taking another power.

This was none of the company's fucking business. He scowled. He had made it clear when the company made their offer that he would do what he had to do when it came to his needs. They promised to look the other way when necessary but it hadn't been more than a month before they were talking about helping him with his little "problem". Nothing that couldn't be treated, they assured him. Addiction wasn't anyone's fault and with their help he could get "better". He bristled, _better_. Oh, he would get better all right. In fact, he was getting better, faster than they imagined. No one would stand in the way of him doing what he had to do. No one.

Sylar grabbed his jacket on the way out.

The night air was pleasantly cool to his overheated skin. There was a rush of blood in his ears that pounded in time with his heart. It was the thrill of the hunt. His body sang with ultra sonic vibration. It felt good. Right. This was what he was meant to be.

The residue trail of power flowed in and around the buildings and cars like water, unerringly leading him to his quarry, all he had to do was follow. Follow and gather yet another new ability. Unless Sylar observed his prey beforehand he never knew what that ability would be, only that certain ones called to him stronger than others. His body knew what he needed even if he didn't understand on a conscious level. Intuitive aptitude was a strange gift.

Mohinder was a brilliant geneticist with a doctorate or two and an IQ off the charts, yet Sylar knew things that Mohinder could never comprehend even if he could explain it to him.. and he couldn't. That was the problem with his ability. The knowledge he had wasn't easily transferrable. He could, quite literally, mentally reach into his own cells on a subatomic level and understand, organize, manipulate. Hell, he could reach into almost anything with the same results. But he had no way of explaining to anyone else what he was doing or how.

It wasn't just a matter of elucidating that when you push button number one, door number two opens. It was more like when you push button number one you create a vibration in the dimensional fabric of reality that causes repercussions down to the molecular level and beyond. Oh, you opened door number two all right, but unless you could see and comprehend the action on a whole, you simply didn't have the proper context. All the average person would see is the cause and the effect. But he could see far reaching implications on a whole other level. He might not understand all those implications.. yet.. but he was getting there.

Sylar was also well aware that no one would ever understand him, accept him. To the gifted and ungifted alike he would always be a monster, a freak. So be it. He had always been the oddball, it was nothing new. The difference now was this time he had the control, the power. He was the special one and he couldn't be ignored. Sylar suddenly stopped up short and looked around.

The air around him had thickened with the aroma of the ability that he had been hunting. He tilted his head up like an animal scenting, as if he could really smell his prey in the usual sense. He was close now. He drew back into the shadow of a doorway and opened his ability wide. Currents and eddies swirled around him in invisible pools, this was the very stuff of existence. This belonged to him.

His eyes shone reflective black as they trailed up to the third floor window of a non-descript apartment building. She was there. He knew that as surely as he knew his name. And she had something that belonged to him. Sylar smiled.

_Angela and Noah and Claire and Sylar_

_ Crossroads _

_That point in time where all things converge. Where bargains are made and decisions are reached._

The phone rang once, twice. Angela fumbled for a moment to reach the lamp on the side table next to her oversized bed. Before the third ring sounded Angela had the phone in her hand. "Yes?" there was a pause, "Understood."

She sat up and grabbed the robe at the end of the bed. "Do you have him in sight now?" she sighed and her expression grew determined. "Mobilize a team and have them in position but do not, I repeat, do _not _engage, I'll be there as soon as I can." She slammed the receiver down, "Damn it Sylar. You're just spoiling for a fight."

0-0-0-0-0

Bennet might not have the same position in the new hierarchy of the company but that didn't mean he was without connections. He received the call right after Angela. Sylar was hunting. Well, there _wasn't _a surprise. You couldn't tame an animal like Sylar. He was nothing less than a vampire. Now all he had to do was find the right stake to drive through his heart.

Bennet pulled his Glock from the drawer and loaded the cartridge, pulling back the slide. The ammo was made especially for him, hollow point, hot load for maximum damage. It wouldn't kill Sylar but it would hurt like a son of a bitch. Once Sylar was down if he took his head off, it might just be for good. It was worth a try.

He paused, Claire. If he was able to kill Sylar he might be ending any chance he had to reconcile with his daughter. His expression hardened, at least she would be free of that monster. He could live with her hating him for the rest of his days if Sylar was gone for good. Of course, Angela would never approve his plan but hopefully the recon team would be too busy to notice his involvement until it was too late. He was quite adept at doing what was necessary.. and killing Sylar was very necessary.

0-0-0-0-0

Claire sighed lightly in her sleep and reached out for her husband. His side of the bed was cold.. and empty. "Sylar," she mumbled. When there was no response her dream-filled mind snapped to sudden consciousness. "Sylar?" rubbing sleep from her eyes she looked around the room. It was probably nothing she told herself. He had been restless, even after making love, so he was probably just reading or watching TV._ Or hunting_, a small voice in her head offered. She practically leapt from the bed and threw on her t-shirt.

The living room was dark and quiet. He wasn't there. She looked at the clock, it was two in the morning. There was only one reason he would have left in the middle of the night. She walked over to the phone and picked up the receiver. She needed to call Angela and let her know what was happening. Someone would die tonight if Sylar was hunting. She set the phone back down.

If she informed Angela of the situation, the company would send a team after Sylar. In his present state of mind it was unlikely he'd be very cooperative. In fact, it was more likely he'd kill anyone that got in his way. More people would die. She sighed, she didn't have much choice. She didn't know where to look for Sylar, if she did she would go herself and keep the company out of it. Something seemed to spark an idea, maybe Angela would let her try and talk him down before there was a confrontation. It was worth a try. She dialed quickly hoping it wasn't already too late.

0-0-0-0-0

Sylar made his way up the stairs. The shrieking sound in his head increased with each step. He flexed his fingers. Soon he wouldn't be the only one to hear it. When he reached the third floor he swept the apartments with his enhanced hearing. There was only one apartment where the occupant was still awake and it wasn't his quarry. He was always cautious. The police still hadn't connected Sylar to Gabriel Gray and he wanted to keep it that way. He preferred the shadows.

He strode down the hall brushing his fingertips silently along the walls and doors he passed until he crossed one in particular. He stopped. Cocking his head, he lay his palm flat to the door. This was the one. He telekinetically slid the lock open and stepped inside.

Sylar triggered his night vision and scanned the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. A shiver ran through him as his senses locked in on a heartbeat. She was so close. His blood burned in his veins. He needed to know, to understand, to absorb. And with that comprehension would come blessed peace… and eventually, ultimate power. He headed for the bedroom with a grin on his face.

There was a cloud of energy around the bed where she slept, her ability now singing to his senses. It surrounded him and penetrated him. It belonged to him. His black eyes seemed to shine from within as he inhaled deeply, drinking in the power. He studied her face. She was young and attractive, not that he cared. It wasn't personal. It was necessity. This wasn't the path he would have chosen for himself but there just wasn't any other way for him. Not anymore.

"Forgive me," he murmured under his breath and pointed his finger. The high pitched whine in his head spilled out into the quiet room. A small shuffling sound stopped him up short and he spun around at ready, expecting an attack. What he didn't expect was a little girl no more than three or four years old with long, curly, red hair and a blanket. He blinked down at her. She was rubbing her eyes and looking up at him curiously. Shit.

0-0-0-0-0

"Set up the parameter here and here," Angela pointed. "When I give the signal you go in and take him down fast. Use whatever means necessary but get him out of there. He goes straight back to Level 5."

Angela looked to the Haitian. "How long can you give us?"

"Maybe three minutes," he answered quietly.

"That will have to be long enough." She turned back to the agent in charge. "You heard him. You'll have three minutes or less to sedate him before he'll be able to use abilities against you. After that, it'll just depend on his mood rather you live or die so make it count the first time."

The man nodded grimly. "If the police show?"

"Standard procedures. But keep in mind who we're dealing with. If the police get in his way Sylar won't be as nice."

0-0-0-0-0

Bennet made his way around the south side of the building. The perimeter had been set up and a mobile unit was in place on the northwest side. It was an armored unit. Just as he thought, Angela was going to try and bring him in. He gritted his teeth. That was not going to happen if he had anything to say about it. He pulled his sidearm and crouched down. When Sylar was through tearing through the retrieval team he'd be ready.

0-0-0-0-0

As soon as Claire hung up the phone she had bolted from the apartment at a dead run. They were already in place to take Sylar down. Angela wouldn't wait long before giving the order. She couldn't, a life depended on it. Would he even listen to her?

Claire shivered slightly, memories flooded her consciousness unbidden. Horrible memories of being chased and trapped… of violation and pain. She shook her head clear. She couldn't go there now. Lives depended on her bond with Sylar.

This had always been part of the deal. She had known from day one what life would be like, the horrors she would likely face. What she hadn't counted on was that it wasn't all horror and darkness. Because _he _wasn't all horror and darkness, no matter what anyone tried to say about it, and her father had said plenty. She would never forget his vicious words, calling her whore to a monster.

In what should have been a living nightmare she had managed to find some measure of happiness with Sylar. Perhaps he was only a monster, perhaps he was something else entirely. Maybe that made her as sick and twisted as he was, but all she could think about was as much as she didn't want anyone to die at Sylar's hands that she also didn't want her husband hurt.

Hell was a confusing place she decided as she rounded the corner and saw the armored retrieval van.

0-0-0-0-0

Big blue eyes regarded him solemnly. "Daddy?" the child whispered.

His eyes widened and he looked to the woman in the bed. God damn it. Sylar brought his finger up to his lips and he shhh'd lightly. Just fucking great. That's all he needed, a crying brat and her screaming mother. There would be begging and tears. There always was, sometimes he even enjoyed them. Truthfully, he enjoyed them more often than not. But he wasn't that much of a sadist that he wanted to kill the kid's mother right in front of her. He'd been there and done that already. His mother's body sprawled and bleeding in the dirt flashed behind his eyes.

Sylar cocked his head, was this empathy? He looked back to the bed and his body tightened in pleasure. No, it wasn't. While in one sense he regretted the necessity of killing the little one's mother he had no intention of changing his plans. Her ability belonged to him and he would take it. Still, there was no need for excessive cruelty. The child was an innocent. So he did the first thing that came to mind.

Sylar scooped the little girl into his arms and held her against him. "Shh shhh, it's ok, go back to sleep," he murmured. "It's ok." He had no experience with children but he had always liked animals. They couldn't be that different he reasoned. He rocked slightly side to side.

The child's mother made a small noise and turned over in the bed. If she woke he would have to kill them both. Could he kill an innocent that was literally no more than a baby? He had slaughtered the Walker family to get at Molly without a second thought. But Molly had an ability. Molly was prey. It wasn't that he really wanted to kill a child but survival of the fittest in that instance demanded it.

This little one was of no value to him. If she did have an ability it had yet to manifest or at least there was no trace and he had no interest in pursuing the issue. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt her. Something inside him found the idea distasteful but another part of him, the part that was currently ticking away in his head, wanted that ability... he wanted to feed and he didn't care who had to die.

He continued to watch the woman as he slowly rocked the child back to sleep in his arms.

0-0-0-0-0

"We identified the apartment on the third floor. He's in there now."

Angela nodded. She had made it clear to Sylar that there would be no more deaths. Obviously, he had disregarded her threat of action. If he had gone this far there would be no reasoning him back to compliance. He would have to go into isolation until his chemical levels balanced out and was more willing to listen to rationale again. He would not go willingly. "All right then, move in for extraction."

The agent hesitated, "We have a potential problem M'am."

"Which is?"

"It appears he's holding a small child."

Angela's eyes widened. God in heaven, was he there to kill a child? And if they went charging in there.. "Who else is in the apartment?"

"A single female."

"Her status?"

"Appears to be unharmed and unaware at this point. He hasn't made a move either way."

The longer the situation was allowed to continue the greater the chance for exposure. She had to consider the best interests of the company. If Sylar was intent on killing a mother and/or her child it would get messy fast.

They hadn't revealed their presence yet. Sylar would feel safe. In the end, it might be better all around if they let him do what he had come to do and handle clean-up after the fact. Once Sylar had satisfied his immediate need he would go back home. They could be waiting to bag him. He would be easier to handle right after a feeding anyway.

They couldn't allow the truth about the serial killer known as Sylar to become public. Two more deaths were a small price to pay, Angela decided.

0-0-0-0-0

Noah looked at his watch. Something was wrong. They should have gone in and taken Sylar down by now. He scanned the quiet building again. It was possible that they had arrived too late. Sylar may have already taken out his intended target.

He considered their next move. Angela would provide clean-up and cover for the murder. There wasn't a choice. If the government and general public ever got wind of what had been happening to humanity all hell would break loose. It wasn't so much a matter of "if" anymore but rather "when". Whatever was happening to people there was enough of the population beginning to manifest that at some point there wouldn't be any way to keep it quiet anymore.

Even if Claire wasn't one of the special ones, Noah would have advocated for secrecy. Mankind wasn't ready for the idea of change, not this kind of change. And people like Sylar just made the whole situation more untenable. While he was the worst of the lot there were more than enough of the garden variety scum-bags out there to incite the rest of the world against anyone having an ability, no matter how benign.

Sylar, on the other hand, was in a class all by himself. There was something inherently wrong about him. You could just sense it when he was close, like our nomadic ancestors might have sensed when a predator was near. Had he not seen the test results himself he might have questioned Sylar's status as a human being. The difference was that disturbing. But unfortunately most people were too far removed from the jungle, they didn't or wouldn't see it.. which was why Sylar was still alive. Which was why they were all here now, Noah flicked off the safety on his Glock.

If Sylar had made his kill they would wait for him to come out then confront him. Noah scanned the perimeter. That worked for him.

0-0-0-0-0

"Angela!" An agent dressed in protective gear escorted Claire to where Angela had set up a base of operations. "Am I in time? Did you send the team in?" Please let it not be too late, she thought desperately.

"I have everyone in place but there's been a complication," Angela admitted.

"What kind of complication?" Claire questioned. Complications where Sylar was concerned were usually bad. She needed to prepare herself that he may have already killed someone.

"We're using an echo location device that allows us to see into the building. So far no one has been hurt but that won't be the case for long. It looks like there is a small child involved."

Claire inhaled sharply, "He won't hurt the child, not if you don't push him. Let me go in. I can bring him out before it gets out of hand."

"It's already out of hand Claire. You can't reason with him now." Angela nodded to someone over her shoulder.

"So what does it hurt to try?" she pleaded.

"We need to contain the situation before anyone else gets involved. None of us can risk exposure. You know that."

"Then just give me five minutes. Let me go in, I know I can do this. Please."

Angela shook her head, "Even if you can talk him out of there he's not going to come willingly back to Level 5. And that's where he needs to be."

"That's my point, things will get… bad and no one wants that." Claire tried again, "You don't want him to go rogue. He listens to me."

Angela studied her granddaughter's tense expression, "Please tell me you haven't become attached to him." She sighed. Sylar could be charming in his own quirky way, Angela knew. He was also compelling and attractive. She couldn't say she was all that surprised that Claire would have some feelings for him but she needed to be reminded, "He can only bring you pain. I should know, Arthur may not have been like Sylar but he was no less a monster, maybe more so because he couldn't blame his ability. Remember what he is Claire. Never forget."

"You think I could!" Claire's voice grew loud, "You think I don't still have nightmares of.. what happened.. what he did to me? I close my eyes and I can still see the blood, my blood. And I can still feel his hands on me.. in me. I was there, I don't need you to tell me what he is."

Angela's expression softened, "You don't need to do this. We can handle him."

"No, you can't. Not if you want this to be bloodless. You have nothing to lose by sending me to him and everything to gain."

Angela sighed, there would be no reasoning with her grand-daughter. She should have seen it sooner. Her grand-daughter had developed an attachment. "Five minutes, that's all I can give you.. then we have to go in and take him down.. whatever it takes."

Claire nodded and ran into the apartment building.

0-0-0-0-0

Noah crossed through the narrow alley between the two apartment buildings just in time to see Claire run in through the main door. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled under his breath. What the hell was Angela thinking? Actually, he knew what she was thinking. She wanted to draw him out quietly. If she could use Claire to achieve the goal she would. Noah took a deep breath. He had to remember, Sylar couldn't really hurt her.. at least not in a permanent way. He could still make this work. Slowly Noah made his way around to the main door and slipped inside.

0-0-0-0-0

The ticking in his head was now so loud it drowned out any other considerations. Sylar walked across the hall into the child's bedroom and lay her back in her bed. She sighed softly but didn't wake. Sylar brushed his fingers over her soft hair. "Sleep little one," he instructed quietly, "For your own sake." He pulled the blanket up over her and turned. It was time to finish this. He couldn't wait any longer.

0-0-0-0-0

Claire slipped into the dark apartment quietly. The dense population of the city made it harder for Sylar to use his super-hearing ability and more likely than not he would have it dampened to prevent sensory overload. But he could easily hear her if he made a conscience effort. She took a deep breath noting that her hands were trembling slightly. This reminded her too much of the last time she had been in a darkened home with Sylar's hunger raging. She steadied her emotions. There was a child involved. If she didn't resolve this situation quickly he was more than capable of killing everyone.

As she rounded the corner into the hall a familiar dark shape stepped out of one of the rooms. She stopped up short.

They stood eying one another for a heartbeat before Sylar snapped out of the momentary shock of seeing her there. His voice was low and gruff reverberating oddly with the power that was coursing through him. "What the hell are you doing here?" his whole attitude radiating menace.

"I need you to come with me right now," Claire pleaded.

He cocked his head looking at her has if she had lost her mind. "_You_ need to get the hell out of here.. right now."

"I'm not leaving without you." she stood her ground.

He smiled unpleasantly. "Well, if you really want to wait for me to finish up. But I don't think you'll find it very enjoyable."

"The company is waiting for you outside. They've been following you."

Sylar's eyes narrowed. He knew about the surveillance of course but he thought he had given them the slip. "You've been helping them?"

"You know better than that. I'm here trying to help you. Please just come with me before this goes too far. We can still salvage the situation but not if you kill that woman or her child. You'll be back to square one and you know what that means. Don't let it control you Sylar please. You can fight it."

His eyes were as black and as cold as deep space. "I don't want to fight it." His low melodic voice chilled her to the core.

"I don't believe you. You've fought for normalcy, for peace. You've fought your hunger. You have a home and a life other than just killing. You wouldn't do all that if it wasn't what you wanted. If it wasn't important to you." Claire took a step closer. "And you have me. Aren't I important to you?"

Sylar stared at her, his expression unreadable. Was she even reaching him at all? She took a small step towards him.

Claire knew he was determining her honesty, gauging her intent. She chose her words carefully, "I know we don't have a traditional relationship but I don't want to lose it. I don't want to lose you."

He couldn't quite keep the incredulity from his voice, "You mean that."

"Yes, I do. My family will want to have my head examined of course." Claire gave him a weak smile then her expression grew serious. "But I can't, I won't, support murder. You have to let her go and come with me now. Let me help you. We'll get through this together."

He paused, uncertainty playing across his features. Then something dark seemed to reassert itself. "You knew what I was before you agreed to be with me. If you don't want to deal with it then leave. But don't get in my way Claire. It would be a mistake."

"Better that you hurt me than an innocent." She made a decision. "If that's what it will take to get you to leave them alone. Then hurt me."

Sylar sneered at her, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about. I don't want to hurt you, but.. if you don't leave right now.. I will."

She took another step toward him only to find herself propelled back at a high rate of speed. Claire hit the wall hard, the air knocked from her lungs in a rush. She slid slowly to the floor. She looked up to see Sylar standing over her. "No more warnings Claire. Leave!"

Claire started to answer with a less than complimentary remark when movement behind Sylar caught her attention. The young woman Sylar had come for was standing in the hall her mouth open in surprise. The words caught in her throat. The woman would die and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Sylar heard the heartbeat behind him, fast and hard. He turned to see his prey gaping at him like a fish. There was a sharp intake of breath on the cusp of a scream but Sylar responded quicker, "You make one sound and I will kill your little girl." He took a step toward her. Her eyes had become so wide he thought they might pop from her head. She looked to the little girl's room.

He followed her line of sight, "She's safe and sound in her bed as long as you do exactly what I tell you to do. Do you understand me?" For some odd reason he didn't want to use force with Claire there. Why the hell did he care what she thought anyway?

The woman nodded mutely. "Turn around and go back into your bedroom. You touch the phone and she dies. Go in there and wait for me." When the woman didn't move he added, "Now!" She backed away from him and disappeared into the bedroom.

He turned back to Claire. "Go home Claire. I'll be there soon."

She shook her head. "If you do this.. don't bother coming home."

Sylar smirked, "And here I thought you promised until death do us part." His expression grew hard, "You're just like the rest of them. If you want out of this marriage I'm sure I can arrange it."

"Are you threatening me now? Do I mean nothing to you?" if he felt anything at all for her maybe he would listen. "What am I to you? Do you care for me? Because if you do this, then you never cared at all."

"Save the guilt trip." He turned towards the bedroom but hesitated in the doorway. "I don't have a choice Claire. I couldn't stop this even if I wanted to… I don't want to."

"Then you choose to be a monster."

He shrugged, "I choose not to fight it."

There was a lump in her throat as Sylar left her there in the hall. Of course, Claire knew about the ones that he had killed while on assignment. Those deaths she had been able to justify as "part of the job." But there was no way to mollify her conscience about this. This was murder, up-close and personal. Rather it was driven by compulsion or real physical necessity didn't matter, what mattered was if she didn't do everything she could to stop it then she was as lost as Sylar was.

Claire staggered to her feet, her body healing with each motion. She could hear the woman begging Sylar not to hurt her child and crying. She took a deep breath and came to a decision. If he wasn't strong enough to fight for them then she would have to be strong enough for both of them. She would fight for his soul… and she would win.

0-0-0-0-0

_I wrote this chapter with the idea in mind of the S3 episode "Eclipse Part 2" where the depth of HRG's obsession was really shown. Claire lay dying in the hospital and yet he chose to continue to hunt Sylar and Elle instead of going to her. It was more important to him that he kill Sylar than be there for his daughter. That attitude really stuck with me and served to remind me that Noah is not a nice man. He helped create a monster, now he can't accept the guilt of his complicity in all the things that Sylar has done. Danko nailed it when he called Sylar "white whale" Noah has become Ahab._

0-0-0-0-0

Noah poked his head around the corner and then pulled it back. There were two agents outside an apartment door about half way down the hall. He considered it probably wouldn't look too good if he killed his own men to get to Sylar. No matter that right now, he didn't really care what it took.

He needed a new plan. He'd have to go up one floor and come down the fire-escape. He should be able to get in through the window. Noah paused, Claire was most likely already in the apartment with Sylar, that's why the team hadn't broached yet. It was even possible that she might be able to talk him down. If anyone could reach him, it would be her. Noah gritted his teeth so hard he thought they might crack. God, how he hated it, his precious daughter married to that freak of nature.

He wanted revenge for himself, for his daughter, and for all the others that Sylar had corrupted or destroyed in one way or another. How many had there been after three years? Not just the specials that Sylar fed on but the family and friends that got in Sylar's way, the agents that tried to stop him, the police that never stood a chance against him… all the victims. _Claire._

Noah remembered every last one of them. How could he not? He'd been there to witness the birth of a monster. But it wasn't his fault, not really. How could he have known what Sylar would become? He was a good agent, he was following orders. It wouldn't have mattered if they had bagged Sylar anyway. He was, what he was, they would only have been postponing the inevitable. He was nothing more than an animal, a monster without conscience or humanity.

"_What if his suicide attempt changed things? I don't think he'll kill again."_ Elle had practically been begging him.

Noah moved back to the stairwell taking the steps two at a time.

"_Sure he will, it's what he is, we just need to prime the situation."_ his words echoed around him but he didn't want to hear. _"If they had wanted us to bring him in they would have ordered us to bring him in. They want to see him kill."_

He slid open the window and crawled out onto the fire escape.

"_But he had a soul! We could have saved him," __she decried._

He moved from one ladder to the next until he reached the targeted apartment.

"_We're not missionaries Elle. We're agents." _He had dismissed her.

Noah reached around his waistband at the back.. "_had a soul"_.. and pulled the razor-sharp blade free of it's sheath… _"could have saved him"…_ He slid open the window and closed his mind to those traitorous memories.

"Let's see how well you regenerate without a head," he thought.

0-0-0-0-0

"M'am?"

"What is it now Agent?" Angela looked at her watch, three minutes until breach.

"Team Four is in position on the south side of the building and they spotted what they thought was a non-com."

"Well, get him out of there." Great, just what they needed, a civilian caught in the crossfire.

"It's Agent Bennet M'am."

"Bennet? He's here? I didn't order.. son of a bitch." Angela eyes traveled up the side of the building. "Spoiling for a fight too Noah?" she shook her head. "You two have more in common than you know."


	2. Part 2

Sylar

Time to Feed

"Who are you? What do you want?!" she backed away from him, her eyes wild and unfocused.

Sylar smiled. "Tell me what makes you _special_," the last word reverberated with barely contained power.

"What?" the young woman choked out.

"I can feel it all around you. Tell me what it is. What can you do?"

"I don't.. I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do. See, I can do a lot of special things myself. One thing is that I can tell when someone is lying. I never realized how valuable a passive ability could really be until I took that one. Well, the touch thing comes in handy too, and the.. well never mind. It doesn't really matter, I'm just curious as to what I'm getting."

"You're insane." The woman had backed herself against the wall. There was nowhere left to go.

"That's debatable," he sauntered towards her, his every cell vibrating with pleasure. The woman jerked and then began sliding _up_ the wall.

She gasped. "Please, please, don't hurt my baby. She doesn't have anything to do with this."

"I know that," he sneered. "I only want what you have. I'm going to take it then leave. No one else has to get hurt." He raised his hand and pointed his finger. "I need it." A high pitched whine filled the air.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire and Sylar

Take Down

His back was to her as she approached. She only hoped to god he was so enthralled with taking the woman's ability that he wouldn't hear her until it was too late. Sylar wasn't going to be too happy with her. To him it would seem like another betrayal. He was completely ego-centric, his grasp on morality always questionable at best. It was even possible that he might kill her.. for good. If there was anyone that could figure out a way it would be him.

Claire swallowed her fear and raised the injector gun Angela had given her. The moment the sedatives hit his system his body would begin trying to find ways to neutralize it's effects. Sylar was hard to control, period. It took a combination of inhibitors and sedation to keep him from accessing his abilities. Unfortunately, the inhibitors had to be fed directly into the brain and to do that you had to insert a shunt… and to do that… you had to be able to get close enough.

She didn't want to do this but it was clear it was the only way. He would go back to level five for rehabilitation. They wouldn't experiment on him as they had in the past but it would still seem like torture to him. Claire steeled herself by remembering that day two years ago when he had stalked her in her own home. When he had used his abilities to paralyze her… she aimed the weapon at the back of his neck… the excruciating pain as he sliced through her head… she pulled the trigger.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Through his haze of endorphins he felt rather than heard that little warning bell chiming like a clock striking the hour… but he was too caught up in the moment to care. His attention wholly focused on the prey pinned to the wall before him. Her cells were humming and he was tracing the energies as they flowed in and around her. It was beautiful… it was peaceful and calm. All he had to do was absorb the knowledge and that peace would flow into him and he would understand.

A loud pop followed by a stinging pain cut through the miasma and instantly something dark and powerful welled up inside him. He turned slowly to find Claire standing behind him with weapon in hand. A betrayer… just like all the rest. His lips stretched into an unpleasant smile. He reached around and pulled the hypo from his neck. He looked at it like it was some annoying insect then he closed his fist shattering it. His black eyes locked on hers, "I offered you a choice, something I don't have. Now I know."

"You don't know anything. If you'd stop being so damn selfish for a minute you'd see, God help me, I care about you!"

He took a step toward her. "Please," she asked, not sure if she was pleading for herself or for him… she fired the two remaining hypos into his chest.

Her skin began to bubble as the electrical current poured from his fingers into her. Pain arced through every cell of her body. He could still make her feel… everything. Tears evaporated before they could form and she felt herself breaking apart. Then she fell to the floor with a muffled scream still on her lips.

He was still standing in the same spot with his hand extended but there was an unfocused expression on his face, like he had forgotten something important. "You, I tried with you, wanted to be something else… for you."

She was trembling all over as her body sought to repair the extreme damage, "I know."

He choked out a hoarse laugh, "I really wanted to love you." He sank to his knees. "I really tried to love you… but I don't know how."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to work on it, won't we," she rasped as her body shifted and mended.

He cocked his head, "I don't understand how you could care about me. I'm nothing but a monster."

She smiled ruefully, "No, you're not. I can hate the monster and still have feelings for the man. Can you understand that? I came here to stop you and get you some help. Please let me do that. Don't fight this, just sleep. For me? It'll be ok, I promise. I won't let anyone hurt you. Sleep."

Sylar looked into her eyes with such an expression of torment that she knew without a doubt that Gabriel Gray still lived within the dark depths of Sylar's soul. There was still a man inside worth saving. His eyes glazed over and he fell forward. Claire reached out and stroked his hair. She sighed, what the hell had she gotten herself into? "It's ok. We'll find a way."

"I have a way."

Claire turned to find her father standing in the doorway.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

_Good… evil… ever opposing forces always battling for dominance within us. The dichotomy of what it means to be human._

_Why is it, at times, so hard to tell one from the other? _

_The good guys are supposed to defeat the bad guys. It's a simple enough concept. So why do we endlessly search for answers if we already know the difference between what is right and what is wrong._

_Isn't the decision clear-cut? A monster should be destroyed. Shouldn't he? _

_But how far do you go to get the job done? When do the good guys cross the line to bad? When do you become the thing you hate?_

_Mankind has pondered the duality that exists inside us for eons, yet we seem no closer to defining that line as simple black and white. Ever more complicated, we exist in shades of gray. So ask yourself, must you sell your soul to defeat evil? _

_And if It's true what they say, that evil never really dies, then maybe the answers lie somewhere else entirely. _

_Perhaps in the heart… because that's the only place where things like forgiveness and redemption can be found. _

Oh, this just couldn't be good, Claire thought. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Bag and tag, same as always. But looks like you did all the work." Noah looked to the woman cowering against the far wall, her eyes bright with shock. He motioned, "Why don't you take this lady to her daughter. I'll take care of things here."

Claire looked at him uncertainly, "Angela, put you on this?"

"Who knows Sylar's MO better?" he answered casually. He glanced down at Sylar, who had two hypos sticking out of his chest. That should hold him long enough.

The woman started crying, "Oh god, oh god."

"Everything will be all right now," Noah assured her, "We're here to help you. Be calm."

Sylar moaned softly. Claire leaned over him and soothed, "It's ok." She idly stroked his forehead.

Noah's expression grew tight with revulsion. "We don't have much time. He's fighting the drugs. We need to get that shunt in his head. You take care of his victims. I'll take.. care.. of him."

Claire stared hard at her father. It had been months since they'd last spoken. But there seemed to be little reason to make the effort anymore as he refused to accept the situation. It always ended up in an argument and she was tired of fighting him. She had made the right choice. Thanks to the relationship Sylar had been building with her and others around him he was becoming more manageable. Less people were dying and he wasn't always this shadowy threat to all of them. He had become more than just a killer… or at least he was trying.

Something about the whole scenario was just wrong. She didn't believe for one minute that Angela would assign her father to Sylar. There was too much history between them. "He's my responsibility, I'll take care of him, the team is right outside…" she paused. "But you should already know that."

Noah sighed. "You're not going to make this easy are you," he stated.

Claire frowned, "Make what…" something in his hand glinted in the light from the window. "What is that? What are you doing?"

"What I have to," he held up the blade. "Three more abilities in the last two months Claire. How many does that make? Nearly twenty now? He's almost unstoppable. Soon it'll be too late for anyone to stand against him. It has to be done while it can be done."

Claire shook her head, "That's not what this is about! This is about your need for revenge. My god, do you even see what's happened to you? What you've become?" She unconsciously drew closer to Sylar. This isn't about him, it's about you!"

"No Claire, it isn't about me. It's about you. It's about all the people that he's hurt. He hasn't changed! He's just found a better way to feed his hunger and not get hunted for it. It's all about the power for him and it always will be. But you can't see that because he's got you so... so…"

"So… what? Fooled? Brainwashed? Maybe you think I'm wrapped around his finger?"

"Wounded." Noah's voice cracked, "You haven't been the same since.. since the attack. I've tried to help you. To make you see. You shouldn't be in this situation. Angela was wrong to ask you to become involved. I blame her almost as much as I blame him."

"Wounded?" she scoffed. "I wasn't wounded Dad, I was devastated… and not just by what Sylar did to me but by what you did. You left me to die, alone and afraid. And why? So you could take revenge? I never asked you to avenge me for what happened and you wouldn't allow me to deal with it myself. It was something that I had to come to terms with, something I had to decide. I needed you to be my father and instead you were a company man. Just once why couldn't you have chosen me over your job?"

"That's what I'm doing now." Noah gripped the blade tighter and stepped forward. "I know you can't see it but this is all just sport to him. People are playthings or worse… they're prey. We don't rate consideration beyond that."

Claire leaned over Sylar's prone form putting herself between her father and her husband. "You think I'm fooled by Sylar's games? Well, I'm not. The only person Sylar is fooling is himself. Because, you know what? Despite himself, he _is_ changing."

"It doesn't matter. Not everyone deserves salvation. He'll never love you Claire. He can't. He's not capable of it. I don't even think he's human. I'm sorry. But I have to do this." Noah pulled his Glock and shot her three times in the chest. The sound of the silencer created a sickening wump, wump, wump, as the shells discharged.

Against the wall, the woman bit back a scream and scrambled away from her would-be rescuer. Claire slumped over Sylar, an expression of surprise frozen on her face.

Noah leaned down over his daughter, "Please, forgive me baby." He dragged her off to the side then kissed her lightly on the forehead.

Sylar moaned again, his eyelids fluttering lightly. "You're done." Noah grasped Sylar by the hair and pulled his head up exposing his throat. Noah pressed the razor edge against the vulnerable skin noting with satisfaction how blood instantly welled up. The last time he'd bared Sylar's throat to a blade he hadn't taken his head. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

Noah leaned his weight into the knife and bore down. As the edge parted skin, Sylar's eyes flew open.

"Son of a bitch!" Noah exclaimed. So much for this being easy. But he'd come too far and was too close to stop now.

Noah made a move to knock Sylar's flailing arms out of the way. The man was trying to sit up but his expression revealed him to be dazed and he reacted too slowly. Noah swung hard at him, the blow catching Sylar across the temple, driving him back down. Noah wasted no time and straddled him pinning Sylar's arms beneath his knees. Bringing his fist back he swung hard again and again.

Sylar stopped moving. His eyes were open and he was conscious, but between the sedatives and the blows he was only semi-aware of what was happening. Noah hit him one more time for good measure then leaned over pressing his arm to his throat. "I'm glad you're awake. I want you to feel this. I want you to suffer like you've made so many others suffer these last three years."

Sylar's eyes seemed to momentarily focus and he mumbled, "No.. ab..solution for either.. of us." his dark, knowing gaze locking with his would-be executioner's.

Noah raised the blade for the killing stroke when something slammed into his back. The knife went flying and his air was cut off by a small, yet strong, arm around his neck from behind.

"Claire!" he choked out. "Stop!"

"I won't.. let.. you do this." Her added weight upset his balance and Noah toppled sideways. They rolled into a tangle.

Noah came up quickly. He wasn't prepared to physically confront his own daughter like this. It went against the grain. No matter what had happened between them, he loved her dearly. He just wanted to make everything all right again. He glanced over to where Sylar was struggling to get up. The decision was made for him. Noah dove towards the knife.

"Dad no!" Claire shouted. There was no way she could out-maneuver her father. He was a company trained agent who knew how to kill. And in this instance he might succeed. There wasn't any thought to taking sides when she spun around, "Sylar get up! You have to get up!" she called out.

Her father grabbed her and shoved hard, tossing her towards the door. Claire went sprawling into the hall. She landed unceremoniously, the air knocked from her lungs. A left-over bullet from her chest dislodged and fell to the floor with a plink. Noah realized what it was and he looked to his daughter, his expression painted with sadness, "I'm so sorry."

But there was no more time for recrimination.

He turned back to find himself standing face to face with Sylar. The man was wobbling slightly, his gaze still unfocused. "That wasn't very nice," he slurred. As Noah watched, the wound in Sylar's throat sealed and vanished without a trace. Not good.

Sylar raised his hand and a bolt of energy shot towards Noah going wide and missing his head by mere inches. It hit the wall behind him and scorched a hole. It had carried enough power to kill him. Noah knew he could never go toe to toe in a fight with Sylar, at least not fighting fair. He didn't have a problem with down and dirty. Sylar had scrunched his face in a sort of drunken concentration and was aiming again. He was steadier this time Noah noted with some disquiet. There was only one thing for him to do. Noah rushed forward tackling him.

Still too disoriented to offer much defense Sylar was knocked off his feet. Both men crashed to the floor landing with Noah on top. Noah swung on him but this time Sylar managed to get an arm up in time to block the blow. He rasped, "I'm gonna turn you inside out."

Noah kneed him in the stomach and Sylar groaned in pain. Grasping the knife with both hands he raised it high over his head and brought it straight down. The knife froze in mid-air. Noah's eyes went wide. Oh, shit.

Sylar drew his hand back and struck him in the chest. The force of the impact of his kinetically charged blow sent him flying back a good six feet. Noah landed flat out on his back. His chest felt like it was nearly crushed, without a doubt he had a broken rib or two. Sylar was on his feet and heading toward him. Noah rolled to the side and pulling his weapon fired the entire clip into Sylar's chest.

The room was sprayed in red.

The bullets ripped gaping holes in Sylar's chest. He jerked with the impact, agony clearly etched in his features. Sylar rocked on his feet before re-gaining purpose then staggered forward his head down. Noah scuttled backward away from the advancing figure. There was nowhere left to go and no more weapons to use. Well, maybe one, "You'll never be anything more than a pathetic monster, you son of a bitch," he taunted. "I feel sorry for you."

A deep, smug laugh filled the air. Sylar raised his head and smiled. Noah's blood ran cold at the sight. Sylar's eyes were filled with glowing red light. What the hell was this!? He raised his hands rotating them in a circular motion. Something was forming between them, an energy that Noah had never seen before. When the hell had Sylar gotten a hold of that?

"Sylar?" Claire was standing in the doorway staring in terrified awe. Whatever it was, whatever Sylar was doing, Claire hadn't known about it either, Noah noted. She stepped forward. "What is that? Sylar what's happening?"

The sphere had grown to the size of a basketball and looked absolutely deadly. It's blinding countenance arced and hummed with barely contained power. The air around it was distorted by vibration. It was death. But still, it was Sylar's eyes that commanded her attention. They weren't human.

A single shot rang out.

Everyone turned to look behind Claire.

"All right children, that will be quite enough," Angela announced.

Noah made a move towards Sylar and she added, "I mean it Noah, the next one of you to make a hostile move takes a tranq," She nodded to Sylar, "Or several." Six agents appeared behind her on cue with rifles raised.

"I trust I'm making myself clear."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

Primatech Facility, Hartsdale New York

Sylar stumbled forward, Claire's arm wrapped tightly around his waist. She grunted under his weight. "Come on, one foot in front of the other. It was only three hypos, what are you, getting old?" she prodded him.

There had been a tense moment when no one was sure what Sylar would do, in the end, he had rather quickly dispersed the energy sphere and his eyes had faded to their normal golden brown. Once the immediate threat of violence was overcome the team had pulled everything together to get them all out of there before the authorities showed. The clean-up crew was very efficient.

And while they had managed to convince Sylar it was a good idea to get the hell out of there and quickly, they hadn't addressed the issue of him being there in the first place. Sylar was more than likely being cooperative, not because of the drugs currently flooding his system, but because he thought that by coming quietly that all would be forgiven and forgotten. After all, no one had died… this time. She knew how Sylar thought, no blood, no brains, no issue.

Angela had already made it clear that it wouldn't be the case. Claire glanced behind her where five agents followed at a discreet distance. Their weapons still prepped and ready. This was far from over Claire knew. At least if a battle broke out here, there wouldn't be civilian causalities. It was small consolation.

But even that thought didn't bother her as much as the thought of what she had witnessed Sylar do. Where the hell had that ability come from? Had he been hunting without their knowledge? It was a frightening thought… because if there was one, there might be more. Not to mention, he had gained another offensive weapon in his arsenal.

One of the conditions of his employment with the company was that he had to log each and every ability that he took. And he was only allowed to take ones in the line of duty. She tried not to think about that part of the arrangement. She knew that there were highly dangerous people with ability out there that needed to be stopped, but the company's brutal solution to the problem still didn't sit well with her.

They justified it by saying that it saved lives. Sylar could be sent into situations that a person without ability couldn't survive. He could take down the bad guys with virtually no risk to his own safety. Of course, they didn't question what he did to those bad guys. Horrific as it might be. It was a harsh compromise but Sylar would kill indiscriminately without enforcing some kind of structure. At least with this solution, the innocent could be kept safe from his hunger.

"What you said…" he muttered.

"What about it?" She adjusted her hold. He was heavier than he looked.

He staggered to a halt. The agents tensed, all weapons trained on his chest. "You didn't lie."

"No, I didn't lie. I meant it. Now come on, keep moving. If you pass out, I'm leaving your ass on the floor. Come on."

He shuffled forward again.

Now might be a good time to ask, while he was still fuzzy… "Sylar?"

"Mmm?" he practically purred in that deep tone of his.

"That ability you used… the red energy. Where did you get it?"

He smirked drunkenly and pressed his finger to his lips, "All mine."

"I know it's yours but who did you get it from? Was it recent?" She was hoping that maybe, just maybe, it was something that he had "neglected" to disclose when he started at the company. Something that he had been holding in reserve "just in case". It made sense and it was certainly something he would do. It was also a lot less disturbing than the alternative… that he had been hunting without anyone aware.

He seemed to sober suddenly and lurched more upright, "I'm tired, I just want to crash. Let's go home."

Shit, Claire thought, might as well get this over with. "I think Angela wants to talk to you."

"Yeah well, she can de-brief me when I'm not sswimming in tranqs," he yawned.

"I don't think that's an option." She looked her over shoulder to where the agents milled. "Let's just take a couple of minutes and check in."

Following her gaze he finally noticed the procession that stood at ready with their weapons trained on him. "What the fuck is this?"

"Just relax," Claire soothed.

"Relax?" He pushed away from her and a series of red dots appeared across his torso. He scowled at the men and braced himself in a defensive posture.

"Everyone let's just take it easy ok." She grabbed at his arm drawing him close. "Stop it. Acting like an ass isn't going to do anyone any good. Let's just go talk to Angela and see what we need to do to get past this. Ok?"

"And if I don't?"

"Please, I'm asking you to do this for me. For us. Let's just go talk to her and see what we can work out. I don't want this to turn into something…" she looked to the armed men positioned around them, "ugly."

Sylar did not look happy. In fact, he looked as if he wanted to rend the retrieval squad into small rather bloody pieces. A small vicious smile touched his lips. "Just the five of you? Three of you will be scorch marks before any of you can even pull the trigger."

The men around them tensed.

After a year of marriage, Claire knew her husband well enough to know what would set him off. As long as Sylar felt he wasn't in control, the situation remained potentially lethal. "Why don't you guys point those weapons elsewhere? They won't be necessary. I mean it, escort us if you have to, but back off, now!"

The weapons didn't waver in their aim.

"You heard her. Take a step back."

Claire had never been so happy to hear Angela's voice in her life.

"I don't think we need an escort… do we?" She looked to Sylar who was still scowling, his hands flexing. "Come with me." Angela reached out and took Sylar by the other arm, motioning to Claire. Between the two of them, they _woman_-handled him to the elevator.

"I'm not going to let you lock me up," Sylar growled.

The two women exchanged glances. "I don't want to lock you up. That's only a last resort until you stabilize." Angela patted his arm, "I would like you to agree to treatment though. We need to get you some help with this. Isolation, away from other "specials" will help you feel calmer, light sedation so you can sleep better. You'll have time to practice that meditation that Simons wanted you to try… see if we can't get that… urge… to ease back to a more manageable level."

"Urge?" Sylar barked out a laugh."If I didn't know you were sincere with that speech I'd think that you were patronizing me. But you wouldn't do that to me, now would you…"

Angela felt her whole body compress as if she was being squeezed in a giant hand. It didn't hurt but the implied threat was quite clear. "I won't lock you up as long as we can agree to resolve this."

Claire leaned into him. "You know I will do whatever you need me to."

Sylar shook off their hands and leaned back against the wall. "What the hell is all the fuss about anyway. No one got hurt. Let's just call it good." He ran his hand through his hair, "I'm fucking tired. I just want to get some sleep."

Angela sighed, "You went after that woman with the intent to kill her and take her ability. That clearly breaks the rules we established, I want to reach a compromise but you have to take responsibility for your actions. Work with me here."

"Like I give a flying fuck about your rules." Sylar pushed away from the wall and looked around. Angela took a step back. She couldn't allow him to make it out of the building.

"Sylar please," Claire stepped forward. "You promised to take me to the mountains, remember. Just the two of us for a whole week. No company, no pressures or expectations, just us. I need that. I want that. Do this so I don't have to worry about you getting hurt." She offered him her best imploring look. She wasn't beyond using a little emotional blackmail, after all, he had the advantage of knowing when she was lying. This just evened the playing field.

"Jesus Christ on a crutch… women," he grumbled, "Nag, nag, nag. Fine, whatever you want Claire, just point me to my cell so I can pass out in peace."

Claire rolled her eyes but she smiled lightly, "Thank you." She stood on tip-toe and kissed him softly. She knew the next few weeks wouldn't be easy for him. In many ways, taking abilities was like a drug addiction though they could never find any explanation for his physical reactions. They just had to deal with whatever chain reaction his ability caused. "I'll be with you through this."

She held his hand on the elevator ride down to level five.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar, Level 5

He rolled to the side on his small slab/bed. It was barely big enough to accommodate his long lanky frame so he drew his knees up and pulled the blanket up around his head. He felt like shit.

It was about one in the afternoon he knew, though, there was no clock in the concrete cell. He still just wanted to sleep. He'd allowed them to give him sedation to help take the edge off but he refused to allow them to insert the shunt that would hobble his powers. Suppressing his abilities with drugs didn't really suppress his intuitive aptitude. Not much anyway. The hunger was always there, ever present, ever greedy. But he'd had three years to learn to deal with it on his own. And despite what the company thought, he was capable of restraint.

Angela had backed off on the issue of the shunt, knowing that she would have a fight on her hands. So long as he stayed put and promised not to use his powers, she promised not to try and drug him into submission. Of course, they had doubled the detail of guards on the level just in case he changed his mind. Sylar actually found the whole thing rather amusing. They seemed to think that they had control over the situation. They didn't. He would stay put only so long as he wanted to stay put and if they pushed him or pissed him off, they would all find out just how much power he really had.

Sylar rolled over again. The drugs made him tired but not sleepy enough and he was bored out of his mind. He wasn't allowed to use the Level 2 rec room. They wanted him to stay as far away from other specials as they could keep him, which meant they had basically confined him to Level 5. At least for the first week of his latest stay. He wasn't going to last a week at this rate.

Tossing off the blanket, he sat up and looked over at the large glass window. This was the same cell that they had kept him in the first time he'd been captured. That had been more than two years ago now. How things had changed, he mused. How _he_ had changed… was changing. Sometimes when he looked back at his life, pre-ability, it was like watching a movie of someone else. He couldn't relate to Gabriel Gray anymore. Had he ever been that person really? Or had Sylar always been there waiting just below the skin, waiting to be set free. It was hard to tell sometimes. Sylar was the person he had always wanted to be. Powerful and strong, a force to be reckoned with… special.

And now he was the most special one of them all. He had created a brand new ability, not taken it from another, not incorporated other abilities into something new… no, he had _created_ a new ability within himself. He smiled. Whatever his destiny, he felt that all that happened, all the pain and confusion he'd felt about the things he'd done, had been leading him to this. He wasn't just the killer.. the monster.. the others liked to tell him he was. He was something new, something good.

Sylar closed his eyes. Now he just had to figure out exactly how he did, what he did, and how he could replicate powers at will. He knew he'd be able to recreate the red energy spheres again but the initial effort had drained him. There had to be a way to draw energy into himself so that he could be self-generating. Sylar sighed, he still had a long way to go. But now, for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel like just a murdering freak. There would be an end to the cycle of death he was caught in. He would have a brand new life.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Noah waited rather impatiently in Angela's office, his mind turning over the events again and again. Sylar had an un-cataloged ability, probably more than one, the bastard. Why should that even surprise him? For all they knew, he was hunting regularly right under their noses.

But that didn't sit well with him.

He had taken it upon himself to make sure that Sylar's every move was monitored to the best of his ability. The killer was definitely slippery, but all in all, he had a good network of surveillance that covered Sylar most of the time. So either he had lied about the extent of his abilities when he had initially listed them for Angela or.. he was hunting. Either or both answers were possible and likely, considering whom they were dealing with. So who had paid with their life for Sylar to have that ability?

Noah tried to remember back in his encounters with specials over the years and couldn't remember ever running across someone that had the ability Sylar had exhibited. Whatever the orb energy had been, it looked to be quite deadly though Sylar didn't have a chance to demonstrate its' full potential.

Then there had been his eyes. His eyes had seemed to light from within. Sylar had always been different from the rest but this was something new. It was like a self generating furnace of energy pouring out from him into the orb. Did that mean anything? It had to mean something. But what? What was he missing?

Noah leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his face. They had known from the beginning that Sylar's ability had potentially limitless implications. God knew that he had tried repeatedly to warn the company of what that would mean but no one wanted to take the threat seriously. No one could seem to wrap their minds around the idea that Sylar had the potential to become for all intents and purposes, omnipotent. It was just so much science fiction as far as they were concerned. But once you accepted the fact that humanity was evolving then it shouldn't be a leap to wonder exactly what they were evolving into… how far might they go? There were already people breaking the laws of physics why should omnipotence be any more unbelievable?

The door shutting brought Noah out of his contemplation.

"Noah," Angela acknowledged. "Something I can help you with? And please don't say killing Sylar."

Noah gave her a small grin, "You know me too well."

"Indeed. What can I do for you?"

"He still hasn't told you where he got that ability has he." It wasn't a question.

"Not much of a surprise is it? But if it makes you happy, he did admit to withholding information on his abilities. So you don't have to worry that he's been hunting specials."

"He admitted that did he?" Noah nodded slowly, "You believe him?"

"I think it far more likely than him feeding on abilities without us knowing, yes."

"Uh huh." Noah questioned, "Did you ask him how many other abilities he forgot to tell us about?"

Angela smiled, "Come on Noah, did you really expect that he wouldn't have something in reserve? This is Sylar we're talking about."

"Which is my point, how many others are there? Because you know this isn't the end of it. He broke the rules. Twice. First he's out there hunting and second he lied about what he can do. Neither of which surprises me, but call it gut instinct, I think there's something else we're missing."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You know I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out where he might have gotten that ability but I'm drawing a blank. What about you? You remember anyone with that red energy?"

"No, but that hardly means anything. We have no idea how many specials are really out there and how many will manifest. While he wasn't very… discreet, there may be many kills that we're still not aware of."

"I just have this strange feeling that it's important that we know who he got that ability from."

"Why?"

Noah shook his head and sighed, "Again, it's just gut instinct but there was something about the way he wielded that power. I can't put my finger on it. It.. just.. seemed different, if that makes sense."

"Not really. You don't always see clearly when it comes to Sylar," Angela admonished.

"Neither do you," Noah shot back. "I think sometimes you take that mother role a bit too seriously. He's not your child Angela and you can't mold him into your ideal."

Angela's expression hardened, "You're the last person that should be lecturing me Noah Bennet."

"I know. And that's not what I'm doing. Sylar has a way of getting under your skin. Be careful. That's all I'm saying."

"Is there anything else?" Angela dismissed.

He had overstepped with that last comment. "No, I guess not."

Noah closed the door quietly. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important. Angela might be right, he _was _obsessed but when came to Sylar but his paranoia was more than justified in his opinion. He couldn't relent, not until the bastard was dead… for good.

He came to a decision and headed down to the levels.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar threw the book across the room. He was going stir crazy and he'd only been on the level two days. If he requested a television they would probably have one brought to his cell. But therein lay the crux of the problem… his cell. He didn't like to be confined. It wasn't that he was claustrophobic. It was boring and just plain annoying.

"Did I come at a bad time?"

He knew that smug, self satisfied tone well, "Not at all. I just thought I would do a little redecorating."

"I have to say I love what you've done with the place. It's very… you. I think you should consider making the relocation permanent."

He turned to the window and smirked, "I'm sure you'd like that." Sylar stood and made his way over to where Noah gazed in at him. "But it's a little cramped. And I know Claire prefers a view."

That elicited the desired response. Noah's eyes narrowed and Sylar's smile grew wide. "Of course when she's here, we find other things to do. You know how it goes, young love and all that." Sylar motioned with his hand, "You just missed her actually. Or maybe you didn't. She might have been avoiding you… again. I tried putting in a good word for you but she's just.. not.. ready to forgive you. It's tragic really. I know how much your family means to you."

Noah gritted his teeth so tightly he thought he heard one crack in protest. He couldn't.. wouldn't.. let the son of a bitch get to him. "You might want to get used to the lack of view." Noah stepped closer to the glass. "You broke the rules Gabriel, Angela isn't likely to forget that anytime soon. In fact, I'll make sure she doesn't."

"I'm not worried. I'm far more valuable to her bringing in other specials than I'll ever be as a lab-rat."

"Bringing in? Killing you mean," Noah scoffed.

Sylar shrugged, "Tomato..tom(ah)to."

Noah crossed his arms; he knew an opportunity when he saw one. Sylar was obviously bored and wanted attention. If there was one thing that they did well together, it was play each other. Maybe he could get a few questions answered if he played well enough. "It's a shame we didn't get to finish the game we started back at that woman's apartment. I was just getting warmed up."

"Really? Looked like to me you were about ready to get toasted. Extra crispy."

Noah smiled lightly, "That was rather impressive I have to admit. I've never seen anything quite like it. So now that your secret is out, how about a demonstration? What can you do?"

Sylar returned the smile with just as much sincerity, "I've never been one to brag." He leaned back casually against the wall. "So how's Sandra these days? Oh wait, you're separated aren't you."

"Don't," Noah took a deep cleansing breath, "Don't talk about my family. Do you understand me? I don't want to hear their names come out of your mouth."

"You want to talk about my personal life but I can't ask questions about yours? Hardly seems fair now does it?" his words were venomous.

Noah was now nearly standing face pressed to the glass, "You don't fool me. I know there's more. And whatever it is.. I'll find out."

Sylar cocked his head, "You know you should really consider treatment Noah. They have some wonderful doctors here. They can help you with those delusions you seem to be having."

"What I saw you do was hardly delusion."

"I'm special, that's hardly news to anyone." Sylar locked eyes with Bennet, "You're obsolete Noah. Without ability you don't have a place in "our" future. Just like you don't have a place in Claire's future. Your _Claire-bear_ is a woman now, MY woman. All mine… to do with what I want."

"Shut the hell up!" Noah seethed.

"When I want." Sylar smirked, "Which is frankly… all the time."

Noah threw himself against the glass, "I said shut up you son of a bitch! So help me God…"

Sylar laughed, "Well, well, isn't this an interesting turn-about to the first time we talked through this glass. Who's taking who apart now Noah?"

They both turned to the sound of the secondary steel door swinging inward. Claire stopped up short, turning from one man to the other. Seeing the expressions on their faces, she put her hands on her hips, "Am I interrupting something?"

-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-

Claire stepped into the hall outside of Sylar's cell to find her father and her husband engaged in what was obviously the latest in their ongoing episodes of "mano a mano". Her hands on her hips she announced, "Am I interrupting something?" The last thing she wanted to deal with after the last couple of days she'd just had... were male egos.

"Claire," Noah offered with a fond smile. He looked rather awkwardly towards her as if he wanted to reach out and embrace her, then settled for pressing his hands into his jacket pockets instead. "It's good to see you again."

Claire nodded to him and looked through the glass to find Sylar smiling smugly in her direction. She sighed. She couldn't really be angry at him for this current confrontation, they both owned the blame for the situation. Neither of the men in her life could see, really see, the casual devastation they left in their wake. Each blinded to anything but their own needs and unwilling or unable to take responsibility for where those needs led them.

Her father had sacrificed so much over the years to keep their family safe and together. But in the end it was his own hubris that had torn them apart. She knew that her father loved her, it wasn't a question. But he loved his obsession more. She was an adult now. She understood the complexities but it just made her sad.

And Sylar, he wanted love but was completely clueless as to what real love was and only time would tell if he would ever be capable of offering love and accepting it in kind. Emotionally stunted and deeply flawed, he was a wounded soul always seeking salvation that would ever be out of his reach. She understood less of what drove her husband but found his history to be equally sad.

Listen, could we go somewhere and talk, I want to…" Noah tried again. His side had begun to throb in time with his heartbeat. His encounter with Sylar had cost him four cracked ribs."

"You don't need to apologize," Claire cut him off. She didn't want to hear the excuses for his behavior. It was never about his reasons not being valid. "You really shouldn't be down here. I'm surprised the guards let you through." Her father was looking anywhere but in her eyes. The obvious pain he was feeling hurt her too but it was his choice not hers.

"Claire, if you could just spare a moment for me," he looked back at Sylar. "Somewhere private, I just think that we could…"

"I told you, I don't need to hear your apologies. I know why you did what you did. I'm fine, so let's just forget it." She looked away not wanting to see the crestfallen expression she knew she would find on his face.

"Hey Sweetie," Sylar called out to her. He smiled and waved. "Gonna join me?"

She shook her head. Oh yeah, he would have to play this up. Pass up a chance to twist the knife into her father's heart? Not likely. Sometimes she just wanted to give him a good smack. "Please don't make this any harder on me…"

Sylar turned on the charm, adding innocent doe eyes just in case, "Best behavior, I swear."

"I may be sick," Noah interjected.

"Ok, you know what. Why don't I just leave, so you two can finish your pissing contest. When you're done you can let me know. Oh wait, that's right, it'll never be over and done until one of you is dead. And since my husband is in full control of his abilities it will be you, Dad. But I'm sure you're ok with that because at least you'll die knowing you were right all along."

"Hey, this little slice of heaven wasn't _my_ idea, I didn't go looking for him." Sylar motioned to her father, "I'm locked up remember." He paused, "And the fact that your old man is still standing… is proof enough of my good intentions."

She couldn't fault Sylar's logic though she seriously doubted his intentions, good or otherwise. Her father should never have been allowed down here with Sylar unattended. It was inviting disaster. But clearly there were many within the company that felt as he did when it came to her husband. Too many good agents had paid the ultimate price for coming up against him.

"I'm sorry Claire, this was a bad idea, you're right. I'll leave you alone."

Sylar was now leaning casually against the glass. "She won't be alone," he smiled.

Noah's expression could have been carved from stone. "Goodbye Claire."

As the door closed, she turned to Sylar, who still stood leaning against the glass. "Was that really necessary? And don't you dare say, what."

"Like I said, I didn't start it," he replied without any hint of regret.

"But you were determined to finish it." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"There are worse ways I could have finished it." He put up his hands and backed off a bit, "Come on, don't be mad. I've been looking forward to seeing you." He walked back and sat on the slab that doubled as a bed in his concrete cell. He patted a spot next to him.

Sylar was still using those big brown eyes of his, "You don't fool me in the least you know." When had she fallen victim to his odd charm, she wondered. Her father was right, he was dangerous to her. Just not quite in the way he imagined.

He gave her a genuine smile, "I know that. Keeps me on my toes. Speaking of toes… has anyone ever sucked yours?"

"Excuse me?" she asked incredulously, the non-sequitor throwing her off balance. He was damn good at that. He could switch gears in a breath and now, it seemed, he was going to be playful. She just stared at him unable to stop the small smile that escaped her lips. It tended to be infectious. This was the Sylar that she couldn't help but have feelings for. The one that understood what she needed sometimes better than she did.

"You heard me," he wiggled his generous eyebrows up and down.

"Ewww," she laughed, "That's just… wrong."

"That's not what you thought when I was sucking on your cli…"

"Hey!! Hey! Shush! There are cameras in here," she looked around, scandalized at his crassness.

That just made him more incorrigible. "You should be immortalized on film," he hammed. The look he gave her should have been illegal.

"Oh please, that's not going to happen… ever. So you can just stop it right now. Besides, I know you too well. Any man looks at me sideways and I have to keep you from turning him into a puddle of goo. No way you'd put on a show for company agents."

Sylar cocked his head and curled his finger at her, "Come into my parlor said the spider to the fly."

God, it felt good to let go of the stress and worry of the last few days and just be normal. Well, as normal as one could be visiting your superhuman serial killer husband in lockdown. She decided to play along, something to lighten the intensity of these last few days. "Why do I think you're less than trustworthy?"

He shrugged, "Because you are a perceptive woman."

She smiled.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The bolt slid back and the door opened. Noah balanced the mail and coffee in one hand while he kept a small bag firmly pressed between his arm and side. His ribs ached in protest but luckily he had some good drugs to rely on. They did more than just ease the pain of a few physical injuries for which he was grateful.

Throwing his keys and the mail down on the nearest flat surface, he walked over to the phone. No messages. He hadn't really been expecting any, had he? He pulled off his jacket and tossed it on the small brown sofa. The apartment was on the cold side. It wouldn't be long before winter made itself known… and with winter would come the holidays.

Noah walked over at picked up the small paper bag. Settling in on the sofa, he pulled a sandwich and can of soda from the bag and arranged them on the scuffed up old coffee table. This would be the first year of holidays without his family.

He popped the can open and took a long drink. It wasn't nearly as satisfying as a shot of bourbon would be but he had promised himself not to go there. He wouldn't become some pathetic old boozer. He poured the remainder of his coffee into the can and sloshed it around. Noah looked around the small, empty apartment. How could everything have gone so horribly wrong?

The answer to that was simple. Wasn't it? Claire's words over the last few months weighed heavily on him. But she was wrong! None of this was his doing. If it was up to him he would be home with Sandra and Lyle right now. There was only one person to blame for all their misery. Noah slammed the can down on the table. Bits of sticky fluid splattered it's surface.

There was only one person to blame… himself. Noah pulled his glasses off and rubbed at his eyes. He was to blame because he hadn't recognized the danger. He hadn't protected his family from the malicious monster that infected them. He'd underestimated Sylar. He really had. Not about his abilities, no, if anything, he knew there was more to his power than anyone realized. No, he underestimated his evil mind. What he couldn't destroy he corrupted. He wasn't the only one who saw it. There was someone else who understood.

That was what he needed right now, an ally that understood the extent of the threat. There was another who had had his life ruined forever by the same disease. Noah reached over and picked up the phone. He pressed out the number on the keypad, he only hoped that Suresh was in town.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Angela and Peter Petrelli

Petrelli Mansion, New York

"Peter," Angela gave her youngest a big hug. "It's good to see you. It's been too long. How long have you been back?"

"A few days," he offered quietly.

She gave him a knowing look, "Have you talked to Nathan lately?"

"No," he stated. Clearly, he wasn't going to offer anything more.

She led him over to the sofa and pulled him down. "I know he misses you too."

Peter scoffed, shaking his head. "You need to let it go, ok. Nathan and I are never going to get back to where we once were."

"Your brother would like to try. I know he's been trying to get in touch for weeks but you haven't returned his calls."

"Seriously, leave it alone Mom."

Angela sighed, "Ok, ok." Her youngest son could be so petulant at times. "Are you going to stay in town for awhile?"

"A while. I thought I might check opportunities with the paramedics."

"That would be wonderful Peter." To have both her boys back near her would be nothing short of a miracle. While most people would think that the company was what drove her passion, the truth was taking care of her family had always been the most important thing in the world to her. She would do anything for them, and she had. "Is there anything I can do? You need any introductions? I'm sure I can.."

"I don't need any help," he answered too quickly. "But thank you for the offer," he added.

"All right." She changed the subject, "You should stop by and see Claire. I know she'd love to spend some time with you."

"I don't know…" he hedged.

"What? Why?" she poured a cup of tea and lightly stirred in sugar.

Peter rose, and walked over to the window. "It's just a little too weird for me, that's all."

So that was it. She took a small sip."It shouldn't come as a surprise. You and I both knew this was a possible future."

"I know but…" he sighed, "She's ok isn't she? I mean he doesn't… doesn't hurt her, or anything?"

Angela stood and wrapped her arms around him, "You think I would let Sylar hurt our Claire?"

He looked her in the eyes, "I don't know. Maybe. Depends on what you got out of it."

She pulled back. "Peter! Don't ever say that!"

He turned away, "Sorry, that was a low blow."

Angela nodded, accepting the apology, "I know you're angry with me. But you have to know that I wouldn't let anything like that happen. In fact, if you go and visit, I think you'll find that Claire is actually… happy."

Peter scoffed, "Yeah right, happy. Cause being married to the monster that attacked her doesn't figure into it right?"

"I mean it, Peter. Sylar has made some remarkable strides in a year. It's a noticeable improvement, believe me. I'm not saying there hasn't been some… moments. But it's working out quite well. I'm actually quite proud of him."

Peter looked at her askew. "This_ is_ Sylar we're talking about right?"

"Most definitely. And it wouldn't be smart of me to ever forget that. But he needs me, my guidance. It's a role I can fulfill for him. He listens to me."

"Uh huh, a scorpion is still a scorpion. Probably doesn't hurt that he outpaces the rest of your agents more than two to one either, does it."

"We've been able to stop some very bad people in the last year, Peter. I'm very proud of that. I also have to give credit where it's due. We wouldn't have been able to get to some of them without his help."

Peter's expression hardened, "What did it cost?"

"Our causalities are well down. One of us, one of them or in Sylar's case, one of him, and a few of us to provide clean-up."

"That's what I thought." He walked back to the sofa and sat down.

"What?" Angela followed.

"You can't let him feed like that, Mother. You know what could happen."

"Believe me, I know. I see it when I close my eyes. This will work."

Peter crossed his arms over his chest, "You're the one that told me never to screw with the future. No matter what."

"I'm, not! I know what I saw. You saw it too. I'm just giving it a push in the right direction."

"What I saw was a different time line. Different from what you saw. It's gone, changed, and thank God. I hope you know what you're doing… for everyone's sake." Usually his mother was the pragmatic one but recent incidents had taken a toll. Even if she couldn't see it, he did. And if he saw a weakness then he knew damn well Sylar would.

"Which makes my point, what was meant to happen will happen. It can't be stopped. All I'm doing is offering encouragement. In the end it will be his decision. When the time comes I won't interfere."

Peter shook his head, "Whatever."

"Why don't you stay the night here? Your old room is already made up. You can call Claire and maybe have lunch tomorrow."

Peter nodded, "Yeah, yeah ok, that's sounds good."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

Level 2, Primatech, Hartsdale, New York

Claire leaned back against Sylar's chest. She popped a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. He was warm and comfortable. She liked it in his arms she realized. She missed him. What a strange realization. She glanced up at his stubbly face and he smiled.

"You sure you just want to watch a movie? We could play pool or something."

"Nah, this is good." She looked around the rec-room with it's re-enforced doors and concrete walls. She understood why he hated this place. She hated this place. But she also knew this is where he needed to be.

"You know I was thinking about talking to Angela," he offered casually.

"About?" she pressed a piece of popcorn against his lips and he sucked it in along with her fingers. She leaned back against him. "Mmm."

"I've been here almost three weeks…"

Claire shook her head, "You've been here barely over two."

She could feel him tense. "I slipped ok, I admit it. Are you happy now? Come on. I've got it under control again. No one will get hurt. I want to come home Claire."

She placed the bowl down on the table and turned back to him."I don't have anything to do with it. It all comes down to what your lab results indicate. You have to deal with Angela."

Sylar slid out from behind her and started to pace. "Your opinion goes a long way and you know it. I want out of here Claire."

This wasn't unexpected but she had to be careful. She didn't want to set him off by saying the wrong thing. "You promised you would accept this."

"And I have. I've been the proper little pet. Done exactly as I've been told. This shit is getting old fast. I don't want to be here anymore." He glanced up at the camera and scowled.

"You need to be treated so you won't…"

"Treated," he shook his head. "It isn't a disease Claire. It's a natural progression. I can handle it."

"What you did was _handling it_? That woman and her daughter might disagree with you," she reminded him.

He glowered in her direction. "I don't care."

"Yeah, that'll convince Angela." She grabbed her sweater from the back of the sofa. "You know, maybe I should go. You should have them give you something to help you sleep."

"I don't need to sleep! I need to get the hell out of this place," he gestured and the soda machine started to vibrate. I'm not fucking around Claire. I.. want.. out."

"And you think Angela will be convinced when you can't even control yourself here?" she nodded towards the macabre dance that the vending machine was currently doing.

The motion stopped. "I.. am.. in.. control." Sylar came towards her so suddenly that she unconsciously took a step back. He stopped up short. "I'm not going to hurt you. I wouldn't do that."

Claire studied his face for a moment. "But you have done that.. haven't you."

His eyes turned to flint. "Throwing that in my face will only get you just so far." He threw himself down onto the sofa. "Leave."

It wasn't something that she liked to do and in her husband's case it was risky. No one needed to have their past used against them but lives hung in the balance when it came to Sylar's state of mind. "I'll come back tomorrow for lunch," she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't do me any favors," he snapped.

She walked over to the door and tapped on it. She would have to let Angela know that he was reacting badly to the confinement. There was a fine line between what they could make him do and what he would allow them to do. Something told her that they were getting dangerously close to crossing that line.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-

Noah and Mohinder

Noah's Apartment, New York

Noah opened the door on the second knock. "Hello Mohinder." Noah extended his hand, "I was beginning to think that you weren't coming."

Mohinder took the offered hand with only the slightest of hesitation. "I do have a life. One I want to live well away from the company and all the rest of it."

"How have things been?" Noah motioned him to a chair.

He shrugged lightly, "Good I guess."

"How's Molly?"

"If you want something from her you can forget…"

"Whoa, whoa, I was just asking. No ulterior motive."

Mohinder studied him a moment then nodded, "She's better. Most of the nightmares have stopped. Though the holidays aren't a picnic. I think it's helped for her to be around my family."

"I'm glad. Can I get you anything to drink? I have coffee, tea or something harder if you want." Yeah holidays were a bitch all around thanks to Sylar, Noah thought.

"Some tea would be good, thank you."

Noah put a kettle on to boil. He eased himself down into the chair across from the scientist. One of his ribs had healed badly and was giving him some twinges. He cringed.

"Are you all right?" Mohinder noticed.

"Fine. Just ended up on the bad end of an ability a couple of weeks back. All in all I was lucky."

Mohinder sighed, "Look Noah, you said this was serious so I'm here. Against my better judgment, I'm here. So maybe you should just get on with it."

"I understand." Noah took a deep breath. He was expecting some resistance but he always came prepared. "I need you to tell me everything you know about Sylar."

Mohinder's eyes widened slightly then he rose without a word.

"Mohinder, wait."

"Thank you, but I think I'll skip the tea."

"You need to hear this."

"I don't need to hear anything about Sylar. I'm not going to get sucked back into that madness. I'm sorry." Mohinder headed for the door without a backwards glance.

"He's working for the company now."

That stopped him in his tracks and he turned, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me right. Angela made a deal with him a little over a year ago."

Mohinder looked flabbergasted. "I don't know what to say to that. Why?"

"Why would Angela make such a deal or why would Sylar go for it?"

"Either, both."

"Angela had one of her dreams… and Sylar knows an opportunity when he sees one. Killing without consequence."

"What?!"

"That's the deal. He acts as agent and goes after the bad guys. In exchange, he gets a meal."

Mohinder was shaking his head in stunned comprehension, "That's horrible!"

"I thought so too. But I was over-ruled."

Mohinder sat back down. "Look, I'm sorry. I really am but whatever is going on, I can't be involved. The first time almost killed me. I just can't.. not with Sylar involved."

"I'm not asking for anything but information."

"I don't know what I could tell you that would be of any help. You probably know more about Sylar than I do. Your company doctors had a chance to study him when he was being held on Level 5."

"They were never able to find out anything. Other than he has the four genetic markers for abilities."

"So again, I don't know what I could tell you that you wouldn't already know."

This was when the conversation was going to get awkward. Noah pressed ahead, "Well, you might not be able to tell me anything more about him from a physiological standpoint but you're in the unique position to tell me about him from a personal standpoint."

Mohinder's mouth pulled into a tight line. "There's nothing I can tell you about that either."

"Mohinder… I know this has to be difficult but.."

"Sylar was playing a game with me. He became the person that he knew would get under my skin. Anything I could tell you about him would be a lie, a lie that he created to use me so he could kill other specials. I cost three people their lives because of that lie."

Noah leaned back in his chair, "The only one to blame for those deaths is Sylar. No one else."

Mohinder bowed his head, "I don't want to talk about this. I'm telling you, I don't know anything about Sylar that could possibly help you."

"He has my daughter Mohinder. He's doing the same thing to her as he did to you. I need to help her. Please, I'm begging you, help me… don't let him destroy my child. Please."

"My god, Claire?"

"It's a long story. One I would rather not go into right now. But I'm looking for anything. No matter how small or insignificant it might seem."

"Such as?" Mohinder acquiesced.

"Given all we know about him you'd be surprised at how few particulars we have. As it turns out our Mister Gray has played one character or another most of his life. Some people saw him as being the shy, helpful watchmaker while others remember a mysterious and aggressive stranger. Just depends on who you're talking to, which makes it kind of hard to get a good read on him."

"You're trying to get inside his head? Maybe I should point out the obvious, he's psychotic."

"You get no argument from me." Noah leaned in, "But is it possible that there's more to it than that?"

"In what way?"

"When we searched Sylar's apartment we cataloged all his possessions. He had been collecting what I would call "how to" books for a long time. Long before his ability manifested. His… interest.. in how things worked went back a lot further than his ability."

"That's interesting, but I'm not sure how it helps you."

"Right now, it's only a piece of a puzzle. But if I can gather up enough of those pieces and put them together then I'm going to get a look at the real picture, the real Sylar. Know thy enemy. It's the only way to defeat him."

Mohinder drew his hand through his hair, "You sure that's something you want to know?"

Noah smiled grimly, "Oh, yes."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar

Level 5, Primatech Facility, Hartsdale New York

Sylar made his fifty second circumference around his cell. It was ten twelve PM on the dot. He didn't need his watch to tell him. He knew. He always knew. Brushing his fingers along the walls, he could feel the cinder block beneath the layer of concrete. He wasn't sure if he was actually feeling it with his hands or if it was his ability sampling the wall and breaking it down into its constituents. It didn't really matter. Neither did being locked up, not at the moment anyway.

During the first week of his incarceration his body had begun acclimating to his new abilities and he started to feel calmer, so he began internally dissecting the new ability he had created. He traced its origin within his own DNA, figuring out on multi-levels what it was and how it worked, how to recreate it, and more importantly… trying to figure out how to power it. It really had drained him and that was a new kink in his progression. He couldn't have his abilities taxing his system like that, running out of juice at an inopportune time could be fatal. He wasn't so arrogant as to think that he was indestructible, not yet anyway. He needed to learn why this new ability was different from the ones he had taken.

Something else had been on his mind too. His little visit from Bennet. He'd originally dismissed it but now he was beginning to wonder. Bennet had been suspicious of his story. Not really any surprise, the man was hopelessly obsessed. It wouldn't be long before he was nothing more than a burned out addict of some sort. In fact, he'd been shepherding that process as much as he could. After all, he couldn't just kill him outright, even if he wanted to, that simply wouldn't go over well with his wife. Besides, it was much better to watch him unravel bit by bit. He wanted to be there when Bennet ate his own bullet.

But the matter of him drawing unwanted attention to his abilities was a problem. Angela was more than satisfied to believe that he had lied about the number of abilities he'd collected. But if Bennet was investigating… the man was worse than a dog with a bone. He wouldn't let it go. He didn't need intuitive aptitude to know what Bennet was all about. But it would help to know what he was currently up to. He needed to get out of here. Sylar glared up at the camera. He felt like sticking his tongue out but that would be rather childish. He grinned, he'd much rather send a pulse of energy through the camera that would burn out their eyes. But that could be misconstrued as bad behavior on his part. Oh well.

His display in the rec-room probably hadn't helped his cause but patience wasn't one of his virtues. He hadn't meant to frighten Claire. He had a lot of faults but bullying women wasn't one of them. Yeah, he had hurt her but it all came back to his ability. He was what he was. He wasn't proud of the things he'd done, though god knew he'd enjoyed some of it. He certainly hadn't enjoyed the part where he'd hurt her.

Sylar leaned his head against the wall, he had a hard time resolving what he felt with what he desired at times because sometimes they weren't the same thing. He was often at war with himself. In looking at his past, it was easy enough to see which side won the battles. The complexities of what his ability allowed him to understand often blinded him to the obvious.

He returned to pacing. He could always initiate a jail-break. But that would blow his neat little world to hell. Sylar passed in front of the window on his sixty first turn and stopped to look out onto the hallway. If he stood in the far corner he could see other windows like his own, as well as a couple of guards at either end of the hall near the stairs and elevator. It would get damn messy. It wouldn't be the first time he'd escaped this place though. But if he went that far, it would certainly be the last.

Sylar sighed and made his sixty second turn around the cell. Better that he work on Angela and get himself released. All he had to do was appeal to her on a level that she understood. It all came back to the company and her position within it. Right now she was golden, thanks in most part, to his efforts in bringing down a whole rogue's gallery of baddies.

They had been a particularly distasteful collection of slimeballs and miscreants. He had been disgusted by them. How could destiny grant such gifts to such undeserving scum? The world was a much better place without them in it. It was nothing short of a public service in his opinion. What he had done in killing them could almost be considered heroic. He could be considered heroic. Claire should be proud of him for his contribution.

That made him smile. Maybe he could make a career of this thing. He could become a company man, a good husband, and provider, living the American dream. His evolution didn't have to consume him and everything around him. Sylar stopped pacing and sat down. It was something to lose himself in that didn't involve screaming, blood, and death. He took a deep breath and turned his mind's eye inward. He could do it, he could do anything he set his mind to…

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Claire and Peter

Angela had already left for the evening but Claire thought it best to give her a heads-up concerning Sylar's current frame of mind. She pulled her cell phone from her purse as she crossed the Primatech parking lot. It rang before she had the chance to flip it open.

"Hello?"

"Claire? It's Peter."

"Peter!" her face broke out into a big smile. "Oh my gosh, it's so good to hear your voice. How have you been?"

"I'm good, I just got back in town and I wanted to call and check in."

"You're in town? That's great. I'd love to see you. I've missed you a lot." Claire pulled her keys from her purse and unlocked the car door.

"I've missed you too. I'm staying with Mom out at the house."

"She didn't tell me you were there. When did you get in?" sliding in, Claire locked the door behind her.

"This morning. I definitely want to see you. You want to get together tomorrow and catch up?"

Claire paused. Sylar was particularly needy when he was in lock-down. The environment was meant to be bland in order to quiet him but his ability tended to have other plans. He was climbing the walls. She spent as much time with him as she could in an effort to keep him calm… and compliant. "I've got plans for the afternoon but maybe we could have breakfast?"

"Yeah, sounds good. Where do you want to meet?"

"How about at Rhodes Café? You remember it?"

There was a pause, "Yeah, 82nd right? About 8?"

"I'll see you there," Claire smiled into the phone.

"Claire?" there was a long pause. She thought for a moment that the call had dropped. "You doing ok?"

Of course, Peter knew about the arrangement and oddly enough had been one of the few that hadn't voiced his disgust. He accepted the situation and her sacrifice for the greater good. "I'm good Peter… really."

She felt rather than heard the sigh of relief.

"Glad to hear it. I'll see you in the morning Claire."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah and Mohinder

Noah poured a touch of bourbon into the cup. "There, that should give your tea some kick."

"A little liquid courage?" the scientist's eyebrow quirked.

"You've never been short on that my friend."

Mohinder gave him a small smile then sobered. "I really don't know how to help you but ask what you need to. I'll tell you what I know."

"Thank you," Noah gave him an encouraging smile. "You said you originally met Sylar when you were seeking out specials?"

"Yes, he was pretending to be Zane Taylor. I received a frantic voice message from the man. He had manifested and didn't know what to do. I tried to meet with Zane as quickly as I could but Sylar got to him first. I'd never met Zane and I had no reason to suspect that he was anyone other than who he claimed to be."

"You traveled with him for three months right?"

"Yes," Mohinder studied his cup of tea with feigned interest.

"You know what they say about hindsight… looking back is there anything about him that stood out? Anything that's an obvious red flag now? Anything about his behavior?" the clues were there, he needed only to put them together.

"He was always a bit off. I guess the best way I can describe it is…" Mohinder floundered a moment. "It was like, sometimes he was awkward when he really shouldn't be... then sometimes he was smooth and charming in situations that would make most people cringe. And the way he would look at me at times… like he was trying to dissect me. Which I guess in a way, he was... he did," Mohinder drank down his tea in a single swallow. "Took me apart piece by piece."

Noah watched anguish flash across the geneticist's face. Another person who had faced down the killer and lived to tell the tale… but would never be the same again.

"There was always an underlying intensity about him, something beneath the surface," Mohinder paused. "At times…"

"At times… what?"

"I don't know, it's nothing," Mohinder shook his head ruefully. "I don't know anything anymore."

"If you're bringing it up, then it's not nothing," Noah prompted.

"I don't know what to call it, just something odd about him. I should have listened to my instincts."

Noah leaned back in his chair, "Could you be more specific? Odd doesn't really help me."

"I tried to tell you. I really can't. He was playing at being Zane Taylor. He was pleasant and helpful when he needed to be, and then late at night, he would sneak away to commit murder… then he would crawl into bed with me." Mohinder turned away, unable to meet his eyes. "You need to get your daughter away from him… before it's too late."

A chill traveled up Noah's spine. He prayed to god that it wasn't already too late.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Angela and Sylar

Level 5, Primatech, Hartsdale New York

Angela headed down to the levels. Claire had called her late last night to let her know that Sylar was making more than just casual threats about his current state of affairs. She would need to make an assessment. Forcing a confrontation would be a mistake. If he really wanted out, other than starting a war with him, there would be little that they could do to stop him. But the plan had never really been about stopping him, only controlling him. And controlling by force seldom worked. It needed to be his choice.

Simon's medical report said that his neuro-levels were down to about half what they had been. The readings weren't back to Sylar-standard, but in the end, monitoring his brain activity only provided an indicator of potential.. problems.. with his behavior. Sylar had to want to fight the urges that came over him or all the data in the world wouldn't matter.

Angela punched up the code to the door for Sylar's cell. The heavy steel swung inward with a whir and grind. "Good morning," she offered. "How are we doing today?"

Sylar was stretched out on the slab staring up at the ceiling, "Unless you're here to say I'm free to go, I'm not interested in conversation."

"Ah, grumpy I see," Angela crossed her arms over her chest. He was pointedly ignoring her. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to show some respect to the woman that's here to offer you a deal."

That got his attention. "Does this deal involve me walking out that door?" he motioned with his eyes.

"I suppose that will depend on you."

"Let's hear it," Sylar stated.

"I spoke to Simons this morning, according to him, all those chemicals swimming around in that head of yours have stabilized… mostly. I'm willing to entertain you going home with a caveat or two."

Sylar rolled his eyes in bored fashion, "Get on with it."

"I originally pulled you from assignment for two months. That still stands. I don't want you anywhere near other specials until I'm certain we're past this crisis. That's not up for negotiation. When I do release you for duty, there won't be any more unsanctioned kills. Bring them in, means bring them in, I don't want to hear whoops my finger slipped."

Sylar snorted lightly.

"Also, I think it would do you and Claire a world of good if you use this time off to take that trip she's been talking about."

"Is that part of your terms?"

"That's a suggestion. In case you hadn't noticed, while you were down here feeling sorry for yourself, your wife has been worried and stressed. Worried about YOU. It would just be a nice gesture on your part."

Sylar's expression was unreadable. "What's the other caveat?"

"This can't happen again. No one was hurt… this time. But I'm not willing to take chances. I need to be able to trust you and right now I can't. You're going to have to make amends."

Sylar came to his feet, "And how do you expect me to do that?"

"Why don't we talk about it in my office?" She held out her hand. "We'll get you a change of clothes and some breakfast. Claire said she would be by at lunch time. It will be a nice surprise for her to find you're ready to go home." Sylar gave her a look that said he wasn't buying into the sudden casual attitude but in the end, she knew that he would go along with her… so long as it met his needs.

It just so happened, it would also meet her needs. He took her hand.

-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-

Claire and Peter

Rhodes Café, 82nd Street, New York

Claire found a small, cozy table by the window to wait. She was a little early but she hadn't been sleeping all that well the last couple of weeks so she found herself arriving at seven thirty just to have something to do.

It was just stress she knew, who wouldn't have trouble sleeping after having to stop their husband from ripping someone's brain out? She closed her eyes. But that wasn't what was bothering her. It wasn't the reason that she was having trouble sleeping. If she admitted the truth to herself, it was because after rattling around in that apartment for the last two weeks she realized that she missed him. She missed _him_.

It wasn't like she was some ridiculous girl reading romance novels thinking that she could reform the bad guy with true love and amazing sex. Ok, well, they did have amazing sex but their life together was anything but storybook. The thought of what he was capable of doing made her sick to her stomach and she couldn't reconcile her feelings towards him.

She should hate him, end of story. But she didn't. She should treat the situation like the job it was. It was a deal made with the devil, nothing more. She put her head in her hands. Sylar was like a whirlwind destroying everything in his path, rather he meant to or not….

"Hey there good lookin'," a familiar voice offered.

"Peter!" she jumped up to give him a big hug. "Oh, it's sooo good to see you. How's my favorite uncle?"

He laughed lightly, "I'm your only uncle."

"A technicality," she laughed back.

"How long are you back for," she motioned to the chair and they both sat.

"Well, I have no immediate plans so I thought about looking for a job."

"Really? You're staying? That would be great! The holidays will be here soon it'll be nice to have everyone around."

"Nathan been around at all?"

Claire shook her head, "Not really. He calls once a week to check on me but he's busy doing his political thing and can't seem to get away."

"Sounds about right."

A waiter approached their table, "Good morning, what can I get you?"

Peter motioned to Claire, "Uh, I'm not very hungry, just some toast and hot chocolate, thanks."

Peter looked her curiously then ordered, "I'll take a Denver omelet and coffee."

"Will do."

Peter waited until the waiter was well away from the table. "So you said on the phone that you were doing good. Is this what doing good looks like?"

She shrugged lightly. "You don't want to get into all that do you? I mean you don't need me dumping on you your first day back in the city."

"Second day and I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know. Probably not a big leap to guess what it's about anyway."

"You might be surprised," she offered.

"It's not about Sylar?"

She smiled sadly, "Oh, it's about Sylar, all right."

"Look, Claire. I told you this at the beginning but I'll say it again. You didn't have to do any of this and if you want out, all you have to do is say the word and I'm there."

She looked at Peter with grateful eyes. He would always be there for her without judgment. She could count on him. Maybe she could count on him for this too. "I appreciate that Peter, I really do. But it's not what you think."

"Its not? You just said it was about Sylar."

She shrugged, "He had a… lapse recently."

"Oh god, did he…? Did someone..?" Peter leaned across the table and took her hands.

"No one was hurt. He's been drying out on Level 5 for the last couple of weeks. He went willingly. Well, mostly willingly. I may have tranqed him… once or twice." She gave him a self-deprecating little smile. "I should have seen it coming though. The signs were all there. He'd been feeding and his attitude had taken a definite turn towards the scary. I mean that's my part isn't it? I'm supposed to know my husband and not let it go too far."

"You can't be responsible for his actions Claire. His actions are his own, as is the responsibility. You shouldn't feel guilty."

Claire looked out the window, "I do though. But not about that."

"About what then?"

"I… I miss him."

"Excuse me?" Peter's eyebrows shot up.

"You're not really going to make me say it again, are you?"

Peter looked at her with a somewhat shell shocked expression on his face. Well, what had she really expected?

"You miss him?"

She nodded. "I know this is going to sound really weird. But over the last year he and I came to an understanding, then from there, it just sort of… progressed. Into what, I'm not quite sure but I.. developed feelings for him." There, it was out. "Other than just revulsion and fear I mean."

"Yeah, I got that." Peter wasn't sure what to say. In a way, he was glad to hear that Claire wasn't hurt and that her life wasn't daily torture. On the other hand, this seemed far more scary.

When Peter didn't answer, Claire pushed on hurriedly, "I know you're probably wondering how I could, you know, feel anything for him after all the things he's done. But I've gotten to know him pretty well and there's more to him. I mean there's still a human being in there somewhere and I…"

"Claire…"

"I mean he IS trying. He is. I don't always think that he knows what the hell he really wants.. but who does.. really.. I mean, I don't. Do you?"

"Claire! Take a breath."

Claire blushed, "Sorry."

"You don't have to explain. I get it."

"You do?"

He nodded, "Part of the reason I went on my year long road trip was because of what happened." He paused, "And I'm not talking about what happened with my dad. That was part of it but there was more. Something I didn't tell anyone."

"Do you want to tell me?"

The waiter chose that moment to announce, "Denver omelet?"


	3. Part 3

Since I've been writing this story in Heroes style character vignettes I was going to wait until I had six to eight chapters to post but I had some time and thought what the heck. You can follow individual chapter updates on my journal page at zagethe dot livejournal dot com or wait until I have a bunch to upload here. Many thanks to the readers that took a moment to offer comments. Your encouragement, thoughts, and suggestions are appreciated.

Peter and Claire

Rhodes Café, New York City

Peter looked at his omelet and decided he wasn't all that hungry either. Guilt would do that to a person. He took a cleansing breath.

Claire sat buttering her toast and trying not to look curious. Peter could tell her or not. The offer was out there.

"Ok, Claire."

She looked up from her toast, "Ok?"

"Ok, I'll tell you."

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. You're not under obligation you know," she stated supportively.

"Uh huh," he had a lop-sided grin on his face.

"What?"

"You've buttered your toast four times. I can feel your arteries clogging."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously though, you don't have to. I just want to be there like you've always been for me."

"I know. I needed a minute that's all. It's not easy taking a good look in the mirror and not liking what you see. I've had to face some hard facts about myself. What I did. I just hope you won't hate me."

"Peter, I could never hate you…"

"Even if what happened with you and Sylar was my fault?"

"What happened? What.. oh," she frowned slightly, "You mean when he attacked me."

"Yeah," he acknowledged.

"That's the same thing you said to me right after it happened. I still don't understand what you mean. Why would you think it was your fault?"

"After it happened? You saw me?"

"Uh, yeah," she looked at him slightly askew. "The railroad tracks remember? I was trying to make myself a Claire pancake. You sure you're ok?"

"That wasn't me."

"Excuse me?"

"It wasn't me. Oh man, this is hard. It was a future version of me, Claire. I was never there that day."

"Ok, I'm used to weird but you lost me."

"My future self traveled back to the past, our present. He told you to stay home that day. He wanted you out of his way. It was my fault you were hurt. If you had left the way you wanted to, then Sylar would have found an empty house instead of you. You shouldn't have been there." He shook his head, "It was my fault that Sylar became un-killable."

"I don't know what to say. Why would your future self do that?"

"He thought he could save the world. He couldn't. All he did was make a mess."

Claire nodded absently, "Ok well, you have to know that I don't blame you for that Peter. Either of you. Your future self didn't know what would happen anymore than you did."

"It's worse than that. Much worse," Peter managed to choke out.

"How do you mean?"

"It wasn't the only thing that he changed. There were other things, the events at Primatech. What I saw in the future... what I did."

"Well, whatever happened, I know you.. he.. you were only doing what you thought was right."

Peter shook his head, "You still don't understand." He took a deep breath, "My future self was the one that shot Nathan, that's why he wanted you at home."

"What!? Why? Oh my god. Does Nathan know?"

"He knows, at least part of it. My future self thought he could alter the future and change what was about to happen."

"He almost died. He shot.. you shot Nathan." She wasn't sure how to respond, it just seemed so out of character, "The future must be a terrible place for him to have come back and done all those things."

"It was, but in the end, it didn't make a difference. He's dead and as for the future.."

"What? What happens?"

"I can't go there, Claire. You'll just have to trust me when I say it wasn't good. It doesn't matter anyway because time is fluid. What I saw.. may not even be anymore. Hopefully, it's better, it could be worse. In any case, interference is just asking for disaster."

"Ok, but what does all that have to do with Sylar and you?"

Peter hung his head and picked at his eggs. "I don't want to go into details but, at the time, I believed the only way to help... was to take Sylar's ability."

"His ability? Which.. oh my god, you don't mean his intuitive aptitude?"

Peter nodded. "I went to the future and I took it. Well, I convinced him to give it to me."

"You must have realized what could happen. What were you thinking?"

"I don't know what I really thought. I guess I figured Sylar was a liar, that he used it as an excuse for the terrible things he does. I thought... I could handle it." His voice caught, "I was wrong. It was horrible, Claire. I can't tell you how horrible."

Claire's eyes widened, "What happened?"

"I couldn't control it. It was overwhelming. I thought I was a good person and yet I hadn't even had his ability a day and... I lost it... I killed," Peter hung his head in shame. "All my values and yet... I wanted to kill and it felt good."

The confession was heart-wrenching and more than a little frightening. If someone like Peter couldn't control Sylar's ability then what chance did Sylar really have? "I'm so sorry, Peter."

"Claire, I even went after my own mother. If Sylar hadn't stopped me, I would have killed her too."

"Sylar stopped you?"

"Yeah, he did. He was trying to be a good brother at the time. I can't believe I'm going to say this but... the guy has more fortitude than anyone gives him credit for. I went completely mad from his power." Peter took a drink of his coffee, trying to swallow the guilt, "Needless to say, the experience gave me a somewhat different perspective. I've spent the last year trying to get my head back on straight." He grinned that crooked grin of his, "I've met with marginal success."

Claire smiled back encouragingly.

"Don't get me wrong, I still believe he needs to be held accountable for his actions. He's not without his own will. But I get it now. Better than most." Every time Peter closed his eyes he could see Nathan sprawled on the floor with his brains leaking out his opened skull. His brother's words haunted him, "Peter, please, it hurts. It hurts." Oh yes, he understood.

A million thoughts were running through her head. Peter had taken Sylar's power and it turned him into a monster. She believed Sylar when he said that his ability made him a killer. Sylar was almost always honest. She had no reason to doubt him. But there was always a question as to how much he could control it and how much he wanted to."So... you've been where he is now, do you think, I mean is it possible for him.."

"To change?"

She nodded hesitantly.

Peter took a breath, he had to be careful. This had to be her decision. He and his mother both knew what meddling in time could do and yet here they were up to their elbows in potential paradox. "I don't know Claire. I know what I felt, how strong it was and how it twisted me so badly I didn't know or care what was right or wrong."

He paused, "But then again, I'm not Sylar. I've seen him make choices that I don't know if I could make, and I've seen him fight to hold on to his humanity. In the end, I don't know how long he can hold out but I do know, that alone, he doesn't stand a chance."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Angela and Sylar

Angela's Office, Primatech Facility

"Just get me those files, Maureen," Angela tossed over her shoulder as she strode in the door.

Sylar was slouched in his usual chair, leg thrown over the side. He'd changed clothes from prison grays to a pair of jeans and a black t-sheet. His head was thrown back and he was flicking his fingers at the ceiling. Angela followed his line of sight to where a small ball was rolling above him. "Having fun?"

"Not really, but it beats the hell out of level 5." The ball dropped into his hand with a plop. "So what fun are we up to this morning?"

"All kinds of fun, lots of case files to follow up on. We're a paper company we thrive on paperwork. Feel free to jump in and lend a hand."

"I'll pass."

Angela sat down, "Have you considered what I said earlier?"

"Of course, no accidents with the finger, understood." He wagged a digit rather obscenely in her direction.

She gave him a maternal frown, "Was that necessary?"

His expression was one of feigned innocence, "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'd like to suggest Vermont. We own a wonderful piece of property there outside a small, bucolic town. You two never got a honeymoon maybe now's the time."

Sylar eyed her, "You want me to take Claire on a honeymoon.. huh. Now why would you want that I wonder?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's see, you want to send your granddaughter off into the woods alone with an unstable serial killer. You'll forgive me if I question your motives."

"You're an EX serial killer aren't you? But if you feel your stability is in question then perhaps my judgment concerning your early release was in error. And I fail to see why you would question me about anything when I've always kept to our agreement."

"Yes, our agreement." Sylar gave her a knowing smile, "Why is it that I think there's more to my redemption than what you've led me to believe?"

"Because you're paranoid dear," Angela stated.

"Just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean that people aren't out to get me," he smirked.

"You're quite witty, but much too sarcastic. It's impolite. But I suppose it's better than threats," she sighed. Angela hit the intercom button, "Maureen, can you book plane tickets to Vermont for two please. Leaving this weekend. Unless you'd rather drive?" she motioned to him, "Also, get in touch with Andy and have him open up the house there. Ask him to have everything ready for my granddaughter and her husband."

Sylar raised his brows. "Kinda presumptuous don't you think?"

"I thought it was rather generous on my part. And I wouldn't think I would have to convince you to spend some alone time with Claire. All that cuddling on the security cameras... I thought the situation was working out well for you two."

"What are you up to, Angela?"

"Claire needs this and given the last two weeks you've had drying out, if you were honest with yourself, you need it too. If it helps, consider this as your amends."

"Uh huh," he offered. "Will we be required a chaperone? There was that whole trust issue of yours."

"Nothing intrusive, I promise."

Sylar's face tightened ever so slightly and came to his feet, "I think I'll grab something to drink. Want anything?"

"No, but thank you."

Sylar headed towards the door then turned. "I will find out you know," he stated with a smirk, "I'm good at figuring things out."

"You should concentrate on your beautiful wife. She needs your reassurance." _... *and let me figure out how to stop what's coming.*_

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire Gray

New York City

Claire stared out the window of her cab as the buildings flashed by... and saw nothing. She was far too wrapped up in her own head to notice anything short of an atomic bomb blast. She was running late for her lunch date with Sylar. She hadn't meant to zone out but she had a lot of things to think about, a lot of things to decide.

Like all the things Peter told her about what had happened in the future and when his future self had returned to the past. His sudden withdrawal from family and friends made more sense now. She couldn't imagine her sweet-natured uncle dealing with Sylar's ability within himself. She was glad she didn't see what he had become during that time.

It was all so confusing. Dealing with potential timelines and the repercussions of any interference was enough to give her a headache. She realized that Peter hadn't told her everything. There was much more to the story. It was pretty obvious. It truly must have been a horrible experience for him.

And then there was Sylar... Peter was the first person that actually seemed to see him as something other than just a monster. Other than herself, no one had ever tried to get beyond what he had done. He _was_ a killer, you couldn't forget that. Even Angela, who accepted him, still thought of him as a monster. Nothing like walking in another man's shoes to change your opinion she supposed.

In the last year, all she had really hoped for was that leveraging their relationship she would be able to influence him and keep the monster at bay. Keep as many other specials safe as she could. But she knew Sylar now, she had feelings for him. She wanted him to reform... and not just for his own sake. She wanted him to reform for _their_ sakes. Together. She was so screwed.

After talking with Peter, she had more hope and yet was more afraid than ever before. Hope, because she had been right about Sylar after all. There was a man still living within the monster. Afraid, because after hearing Peter's experience in dealing with the hunger that drove her husband, it didn't bode well for Sylar, whatever his intentions.

*_Alone, he doesn't stand a chance_* Claire took a deep breath and murmured, "He won't be alone, not anymore."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah Bennet and Mohinder Suresh

Suresh's Apartment, New York City

Noah banged on the door to apartment six thirteen. A smooth British voice called out, "One moment." Before the door had swung fully open Noah announced, "I need to talk to you Mohinder, now."

The Indian man took one look at Noah and intoned, "You promised me that all you needed was information."

"I know. Please, can I come in?"

There was a pregnant pause, then Mohinder stepped aside.

Noah gave him a grateful smile, "Thank you. Just hear me out, that's all I'm asking."

Mohinder crossed his arms over his chest, "I'll listen but that's as far as I go.

"Fair enough," Noah agreed.

Mohinder motioned to the small sofa. "What's he done this time?"

"I just found out that Angela released him." Noah sank into the soft cushions. "Less than three weeks in lockdown for trying to kill that woman. Now he's strolling the streets without a care in the world. You'd think someone would be concerned wouldn't you?"

"I'm concerned." Mohinder paced nervously, "So what are you going to do?"

"Whatever I have to."

"I don't understand how all this got started in the first place."

"I told you, it all started after Angela had one of her dreams."

"Must have been a helluva dream," Mohinder offered.

"She's been damn cagey about the whole thing. I think it scared the hell out of her, whatever it was. She told me it was too dangerous to the timeline to go into details. Said it all came back to Sylar's redemption, that if we gave him a chance that he would take it. That the future she saw could be changed, he didn't have to be a monster. Tried to sell it to me by saying it would save lives. I don't buy it though. Angela's withholding something."

"I don't know, maybe not. I heard something similar."

"What?" Noah leaned forward, instantly alert.

"Peter took her side didn't he? Said that it was a possible outcome?"

"What do you know about that?"

"I was at Pinehurst when Sylar and Peter were there. I heard some of the rumors about what happened to Peter."

Noah studied the man, "You know something I don't?"

"Nothing about Sylar really, well, indirectly I guess."

"I'm grasping here, Mohinder, what have you got?"

"Peter showed up there to stop his father from carrying out his plans. He thought he could challenge him because... he had Sylar's ability. At least, that's the way I heard it. Arthur, of course, just took all of Peter's abilities."

"Peter had Sylar's ability to absorb other powers?"

"That's the one."

"That's incredibly dangerous. How did he come by it, do you know?"

"That's the interesting part. According to Arthur, Peter made a little trip into the future. Peter asked for Sylar's help and apparently he gave it to him. Though, it didn't work out quite the way Peter anticipated."

"Why would Sylar help anyone, especially Peter?"

Mohinder shrugged, "Because he changed, reformed."

"Yeah right, pull the other one."

"You asked. I'm telling you. I never talked to Peter about it so it's second-hand. Take it for what it's worth. Whatever Peter saw in the future had to be compelling enough for him to think Sylar could really change."

"Sylar will never change. Intuitive aptitude or not, he's a flat out killer. Angela put my daughter in the middle of this for a what-if. And I'm not going to stand by waiting for the bomb to go off. Because he will, sooner or later."

"You don't have to convince me, Noah. Reformed or not, he needs to pay for all he's done. Not just for what he did to my father... and to me. But all of it."

"Then help me. I may have an opportunity."

"How so?"

"Angela is letting him take Claire out of town. Somewhere in Vermont. The Petrellis own some property there."

"You can't kill him, Noah."

"That remains to be seen. But right now, I just want to keep an eye on him. He's been on a pretty tight leash the last year. This is more freedom than he's used to. Maybe he'll step out of line."

"Won't they send someone to watch him?" Mohinder questioned.

"Of course. But do you really think that will make a difference to Sylar?"

"I see your point."

"All I need is for him to slip up again. Right now, Angela is protecting him from the fall-out of his latest "lapse" but he scares enough people that he won't get too many chances before they put him down for good."

"You've worked out a plan?"

"Nope, still winging it. But I gotta figure if he slips again, especially so soon after this last incident, I'll be able to step in and rest some control away from Angela."

Mohinder looked at him incredulously, "You're out of your mind going after Sylar like this. Trying to usurp Angela Petrelli? She's almost as dangerous as he is. You need a plan... and an army wouldn't hurt."

Noah looked speculative, a small smile played on his lips, "How would you like to go on a road trip with me?"

Mohinder shook his head vehemently, "The last road trip I went on, didn't turn out very well."

"I'll pay for gas," Noah quipped.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire and Sylar

Primatech, Hartsdale, New York

When Claire walked into Angela's office, her mind was still a whirlwind. Peter had given her a lot to think about. Had she not been so distracted she might have heard the footsteps behind her. She might have had a chance to get away before arms came down over her, pinning her in place. Claire didn't even have time to scream when she was grabbed and lifted off her feet. Her heart clenched in her chest.

Without even thinking, she drove her elbow back in the direction of her attacker.

"Ow! Hey!" came a low chuckle as she was lowered to her feet.

She spun around to find Sylar there rubbing the side of chin. "If you weren't glad to see me, you could just say so, you know. They have laws against spousal abuse these days."

"Don't do that to me!" she swatted him on the arm. "Especially not around here. How did I know you weren't some dangerous killer that got loose..." she stopped mid-sentence.

He gave her a smirk, "Yeah, good thing I'm not one of _those_."

She frowned, "You didn't really escape did you?" She put her hands on her hips, "Because I'm not going to help you get out of here. You can just turn around and go right back.."

Sylar put his hands up in submission, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Man, and people say I'm scary." He laughed lightly, "I assure you, I'm legal. I have my walking papers. Simons signed off on me this morning."

"Really?" She breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, that's good. I guess."

"Don't sound so enthused about it, Claire."

"No, I'm glad, really I am. Just seems a bit soon, that's all. But if Angela thinks you're ready."

"He's ready." Angela was standing in the doorway. Strolling in, she gave Claire a kiss on the cheek as she passed. "Don't let me interrupt anything," she gave Sylar a knowing look.

He just rolled his eyes in her direction. "You know Claire, I was thinking, since I'm still on off-duty status maybe you and I could get away for awhile. Take a vacation like you wanted. Maybe we could even leave this weekend..."

"Really?" Claire looked to her grandmother, "Would that be all right? Can we go?"

"I don't see why not. You have yourself under control don't you dear?" She looked pointedly to Sylar.

He scowled in her direction. "Don't be a bi.." Sylar cut himself short, looking from one woman to the other. "Yes M'am, everything is under control. I drank the kool-aid."

"You are in rare form this afternoon, aren't you?" Angela noted.

He smiled angelically, "I'm special, remember."

"It's not something I'm likely to forget," she answered exasperatedly.

Claire was beaming. "I can't wait!" She frowned suddenly, "This weekend? Oh, gosh! That's day after tomorrow!"

Sylar's brow furrowed, "What? What's wrong? You don't have to worry..."

"I've got to pack! Oh man, there's a million things to do." Claire grabbed him by the hand and started tugging him towards the door. "We're good here, right?" she asked Angela over her shoulder.

Sylar was looking rather confused by the sudden fuss.

Angela laughed, "Yes dear, it's fine, take your husband home." She locked eyes with Sylar, "And you... be good."

Sylar was still scowling as Claire dragged him from the room.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

Their apartment, New York City

Sylar stood by the door trying to be patient and failing rather miserably. "Are you ready yet? It's going to take all day driving." He mumbled, "Should have flown, could have gone first class but no, more _us_ time. What the hell."

"Did you say something?" Claire brought out another suitcase, this one with little yellow flowers all over it. Slung across her shoulders was a blue tote which she also handed to him.

"Nope, nothing important." Sylar eyed her critically, "You do know that we're only going to be gone a couple of weeks right."

"Uh huh," she offered.

He looked at the growing stack of luggage. "You have six bags."

"Just the essentials, I promise." Claire stood on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He made a grab for her but she spun away from him and smiled. "Later."

"It's not Antarctica, you know," he grumbled. "There's a town like twenty miles from the cabin."

"Uh huh, and what did you pack?"

Sylar motioned with his head to a small duffel bag in the corner by the door.

Claire frowned slightly, "That doesn't look like it has everything you need."

"What do you mean?" He looked at the small bag curiously, "You can't see inside it. It has everything I could possibly need."

"Like?"

"What are you, my mother? I can pack my own stuff," he replied trenchantly and crossed his arms over his chest.

"If you say so. Oh wait," Claire cocked her head, "Just a couple more things. Promise." She dashed towards the bedroom.

"Claire! What more could you possibly need? Are you listening to me? Wha.." he threw up his hands. Sylar briefly wondered if it was too late to ask for his old cell back.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

On the Road

The ride out of the city had actually been pleasant. Once the SUV had been loaded with what, in Sylar's opinion, was about three months worth of stuff they had settled into easy conversation. Maybe the trip wouldn't be so bad after all.

Claire pulled a map from the glovebox and unfolded it into a massive poster. "This thing doesn't have GPS?" Sylar inquired.

"Huh? Oh yeah, it's in the glovebox," She reached over and pulled out a TomTom.

"So what's with the map?" he eyed the paper with something akin to disgust.

Claire looked over at him, "What is it with men and directions. Seriously, you're getting all defensive and all I did was pull out a map."

"What are you talking about? I'm not defensive I was just.."

Claire gave him a mischievous little smile.

He cocked his head at her, "Yeah, ok. You know, I'm quite capable of spanking that little ass of yours without even stopping the car."

"That's quite kinky of you." Claire put her finger to her chin, "Then again you definitely have some kinks." She smiled.

"You complaining?" he smiled back.

She giggled. "This is nice isn't it. I mean, here we are, just like a normal couple. Doing normal things. Who would have thought it?"

"Not me, that's for damn sure."

"Oh now, are _you_ complaining?"

"Let me think about that. Level 5 or Vermont... hmm, I'm not sure how much difference there is between the two."

"Plenty."

Sylar looked over at Claire curiously, "You know it won't last, don't you?"

Claire frowned, "What?"

"Being normal," he stated. "It's not like we could have the house in the 'burbs, a kid, and a dog. I mean, can you picture it?" It's not us."

Claire turned in her seat so she was facing him, "Why do you think that?"

He scoffed, "Come on, Claire. Nothing about us is even remotely normal. And it never will be. I tried to play that game once, with Elle, and we both know how that turned out." He took a slow deep breath, "I don't want what happened then... to happen now."

"Thank you... I think. But you have to know that I'm not playing a game, Sylar. This isn't just some kind of job for me. This is my life. I want to be happy."

He nodded more to himself than her, "It's crazy for you to think you could be happy with me. I'm... you know what I am and I... I don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

Claire looked at him thoughtfully, "It's ok to tell me you care about me. I'm not going to use it against you."

He shrugged as nonchalantly as possible. She tried not to smile. "You don't remember what you said to me after I tranqed you, do you?"

His brow furrowed. "What do you mean? What did I say?"

Then she did laugh, he had such a panicked look on his face. "Don't worry, you didn't give away any big manly emotional secrets." He was still looking at her suspiciously. Claire reached down and pulled a small bag from the tote at her feet. "I brought snacks. You want something?"

"Yeah, an answer. I'm really liking that grin of yours less and less."

Claire knew she could only tease him just so much, "Well, there was some mention on your part of a certain four letter word."

"Give me a break Claire, you know I have a foul mouth when I'm pissed. You're not going to hold that against me are you?"

"Not _that_ four letter word..." her grin widened. "Think about it, I'm sure it will come back to you in time."

*_As long as it doesn't have anything to do with a certain red energy_* Sylar thought.

"Oh! Look there," Claire pointed up at a passing billboard that advertised home cooking at the best roadside café in the state. "Can we stop and get lunch there?"

He looked at the dilapidated old sign, "Seriously?"

"Yeah come on, it'll be fun. We can pretend we're normal just for a giggle, even though we're not. How 'bout it?"

"It's ok with me if you want to slum it. I just never took you for the greasy spoon type."

"Oh, you think I'm a snob huh?" Claire questioned in a neutral tone.

Sylar raised a single brow, "I'm not going to answer that because I'll get my ass into trouble, no matter what I say. Best home cooking it is!"

13


	4. Part 4

Caution: This section is Rated R for sexual content. If you are under the age of consent or find such material objectionable then do not read this section.

FYI – While I try to stay as true as possible to the events in the series, for obvious reasons I have to omit or change certain plot points to make the story work. IE, Sylar never killed Nathan (Claire can forgive a lot but never that kind of death at Sylar's hands) And I haven't introduced the carnival plot (it just isn't necessary to the story) I also find there are a LOT of continuity problems on the series so I will omit anything that doesn't make sense or re-direct a plot point that I would like to use (IE, how Peter dealt with the things that happened to him in season 3) All in all though I really try hard to keep the characters "voices" true, no matter where the plot takes them. I hope I'm succeeding.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Some twenty minutes later Sylar pulled the SUV into a gravel lot that acted as parking lot, truck stop, and pothole field. "Well, here we are," Sylar glanced up at the giant cup that was pouring neon lit coffee into the air, announcing Len's Diner.

"This is so cool," Claire enthused.

"You need to get out more," Sylar told her. Having spent a good deal of time in one greasy dive or another, he wasn't impressed by the kitsch-factor. He reached back and grabbed his jacket from the backseat.

"That's what I keep telling my husband, but he's a bit anti-social."

That earned her a scowl. Before Sylar had a chance to retort, she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him to her. Claire kissed him slow and deep. He always tasted so good. Pulling away, she looked into his caramel brown eyes, "Thank you for this."

He was now looking at her with an amused expression, "If I had known a road trip would be such a turn-on for you, we'd be on wheels three sixty five." He drew her in close and wrapped his arms around her small frame. "It's been weeks since we've had any time to.." he raised a brow, "Ourselves... if I don't get you all to myself soon I'm going to do something drastic."

"That won't be necessary." She leaned in tight, "You'll have me all to yourself soon enough." Again, she swore she could feel barely contained energies swirling just beneath the surface of her powerful husband. "Two whole weeks, without a care in the world."

"Believe me, it's not soon enough." He captured her lips, letting his hands travel.

She giggled into his mouth. "Don't you think this is a little public?" she breathed.

Her answer came from outside their SUV, as three men walking by hooted and whistled. She gave Sylar a look that said "see, told you". One man gave Sylar a thumbs-up as he passed. "Way to go."

"That's pretty enough to eat," another laughed, looking in the window at Claire.

That was one comment too many apparently, because the man suddenly pitched headlong into the gravel. His buddies started laughing uproariously at his plight. "Ow! Jesus, guys, that hurt. Shut up!" He held up his hands revealing bloody palms embedded with gravel.

"Oh!" Claire exclaimed, trying to see around Sylar. "Is he ok?"

Sylar looked on with a small, satisfied smirk. "Who cares. Let's get some lunch."

Claire eyed her husband, "You didn't do that did you?"

"Of course not," Sylar replied, opening the door. "But maybe he should pay more attention to what's ahead of him... instead of ogling my wife."

Claire sighed as she watched Sylar come around to her side of the vehicle and open the door like a perfect gentleman. Nothing would ever be easy with him. Claire took his offered hand. She only hoped she was up for the challenge.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The inside of the diner was like something out of a sixties movie. It didn't look like anything had been upgraded in all that time. The walls were painted a deep blue and the floor was a checkerboard of red and white squares. The booths had brightly colored leather seats, and glitter filled table-tops. The ambience could have been quite enjoyable had the place not looked so run-down and dirty.

Sylar looked around. "Is it all you hoped it would be?" he quipped.

"We're going to have fun, remember?" Claire chastised, though she didn't sound quite as sure as she had.

"We're going to have dysentery."

An older woman in a blue apron called across the room, "Oh hey, Hons, just find yourselves a seat anywhere."

"Well, now everyone is looking at us, we'll have to stay," Claire murmured. Smiling towards the woman, she led the way towards a booth.

"You should have seen it, Jenny. Face first in the dirt," the man laughed as they walked passed.

"Shut the hell up Hank, or so help me..."

Claire slid into the nearest... cleanest... looking booth she could find. Sylar sat across from her and grabbed a menu from their place behind the napkin holder. "If you want, I can make some suggestions, safety first in these places," he offered knowingly.

"Maybe you should," she sighed. Claire leaned her elbows on the table. She watched as Sylar perused the menu. Over a year now and she still didn't know that much about the man she called husband. Oh, she knew what everyone knew about him of course. And she also knew intimate details that you could only learn when you lived with someone. She knew what side of the bed he liked to sleep on, what kind of food he disliked... what kind of lover he was.

But he wasn't exactly the most forthcoming person when it came to who he really was inside. Claire supposed that was true of most men. While he liked to announce to the world at large that he was simply a monster, nothing about him was simple. She hoped that maybe some time alone, away from everyone and everything that complicated their lives on a daily basis, that perhaps she could get to know something of the man behind that monster. If he would allow it.

"Ok, the number four is the safest bet, you're also good on the seven and eight. I'd stay away from the three, and definitely the nine."

She smiled at him, "I don't think we can really get sick."

He shrugged, "I'm always up for living dangerously. The number nine it is."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah and Mohinder

Route 74

Noah looked over at his traveling companion. Mohinder looked more than a little green. Somehow, he didn't think it had anything to do with motion sickness. No, the only reason for the geneticist's present state of distress was the person they were currently shadowing.

"There's bottled water in the bag on the backseat," Noah offered. Mohinder continued to stare out the window like he hadn't heard a word. "Mohinder? You ok?"

"No, no I'm really not ok," the smooth, cultured voice responded. "I feel sick."

"This is recon, that's all. I just want to keep an eye on them," Noah tried to reassure. "Trust me on this. He's still got to be jonz'ing for abilities right now. If we get really lucky, he'll make a move."

"He'll make a move," Mohinder parroted. "...And then someone dies."

"I won't let that happen."

"You can't stop him. I should know." Mohinder shook his head. "Dale Smithers wasn't the first of Sylar's murders I witnessed."

Noah glanced over at the man not sure where this was going but understanding it was important for Mohinder to share his fear. "There's nothing you could tell me that would shock me Mohinder. You say what you need to say. It's fine."

"It's not fine," he scoffed, "It will never be fine again. Did you know I was granted a ringside seat at my father's murder?"

"What?"

"I saw it happen. I was there."

"I don't understand."

"My father was so wrapped up in his research, in what Sylar had to offer that he didn't see the danger until it was too late. He didn't understand what he was dealing with. Do you know how Sylar broke that favorite watch of his?"

Noah shook his head. He knew exactly which watch Mohinder was referring to... the symbol of Gabriel Gray's transformation. "We didn't exactly chit-chat when he was on the levels. I never asked."

"I don't have to ask him. I know how he broke it. I saw it. I saw him beating my father's head into the glass of his cab, over and over again."

"Jesus."

Mohinder's smooth voice cracked, "When Sylar got tired of beating him to death he just snapped his neck. Just like that. He was dead. I watched it all happen and I couldn't do anything to stop it."

Noah was silent. What could say? He could say he was sorry, and he was, but it wouldn't erase the pain. It wouldn't bring Chandra back. All any of them could hope for was some kind of retribution. Sylar would pay.

-=-=-=-=-=-

"Ugh, I'm going to pay for this." Sylar sniffed at the meatloaf that mostly resembled an organic brick... or maybe a piece of gray cake.

Claire looked at his plate, "You didn't have to get that you know. I mean, you have nothing to prove."

He took a deep breath, "Yes, I do. It's a long standing test of manhood you see."

Claire raised an eyebrow, "I don't know, Sylar. Looks like it could be dangerous."

"I laugh in the face of such danger," he clowned.

"You may be barfing in the face of such danger if you eat that," she laughed.

Sylar cut into the meatloaf with his fork and shoved a large bite into his mouth.

Claire mock gasped. "You're braver than I am. I'm now properly impressed by your manliness."

Sylar chewed slowly, contemplating, then shrugged, "Eh, needs ketchup."

Claire smiled at her husband and watched the traffic go by through the large plate-glass window. "So how long do you think before we get there?"

"Depends on how many times I have to stop," he replied sagely. "I know why you were looking at that map."

She innocently blinked at him. "I don't know what you mean. I was just looking."

He smirked, "That's a lie. You were looking at the route to the world's largest ball of string. Don't bother denying it."

"So what if I was?" Claire crossed her arms. "It's not that far out of the way and have you seen a giant ball of string? I haven't."

Sylar sat his fork down slowly and leveled his gaze. "I pretty much won't refuse anything you ask of me... but I draw the line at string. Are we clear?"

She sighed with a grin, "I think I understand why you're in such a hurry to get up to the cabin." Claire toed off her shoe and slowly ran her foot up and down Sylar's leg.

Sylar's generous brows quirked, "I think living with me has corrupted you."

"Wasn't that your plan all along?" her foot slid upwards until it was resting against the lip of his seat. She ran her toes lightly along his inner thigh.

"As a matter of fact... Claire," he warned.

"What?" she answered sweetly.

He leaned across the table, "I really wouldn't have a problem dragging you out of here then bending you over the nearest flat surface I can find. Probably not the romantic encounter you're looking for."

Her foot traveled up to mid-thigh and he twitched. She leaned in so they were almost face to face, "I hate to break it to you but romance isn't your strong suite." She added, "You _are_ damn good at wild though" her foot continued to massage his inner thigh and Sylar was starting to look decidedly tense.

Claire stretched her leg out fully and pressed her foot against Sylar's groin. His eyes dilated and he inhaled sharply. It wasn't easy to get the upper hand with her husband. He was used to taking what he wanted rather it be power or lives... or her. She had to admit to a certain thrill. He was always exploring her sexual tolerances, encouraging her to new heights of ecstasy. Maybe he had corrupted her... but what a way to go.

The waitress picked that moment to offer good customer service. Claire thought Sylar might fry her where she stood. "You two doing ok?"

It was Claire's turn to smirk, "We're doing just fine." She pressed her foot against the decidedly hardened bulge.

"Anything else I can get you."

"Yeah, the check!" Sylar gritted out.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah and Mohinder

Route 74

Mohinder looked at the GPS and frowned. "We've caught up. They must have stopped for awhile."

"It's all good. We'll keep going and get ahead of them. That way Sylar won't notice a tail. We're almost there anyway." Noah looked over at Mohinder. "I really appreciate this. You're one of the few people I trust."

"Really?" Mohinder scoffed, "After all the things I've done, I wouldn't trust me."

"Everyone makes bad choices Mohinder. But you're not a bad person. You're one of the good guys."

"I think there's a few people that would disagree with you." Mohinder hung his head. "I don't even know why I'm here. I know how this will turn out. How it always turns out when Sylar is involved."

"You're here to help Claire. And I won't forget that," Noah assured.

"Claire, right." Mohinder didn't tell Noah what he really thought. That Claire was already lost to them. That once Sylar had pulled her into his sphere of influence that there was no coming back, not whole anyway. He should know. Sylar took a piece of his soul and now no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget. He couldn't forgive... himself. "So what do we do once we get there?"

"We check into the nearest motel and set up surveillance. Nothing obvious, we don't want to get spotted by Sylar or by the team that Angela sent. Maybe recon the town and see if there's anyone we should be watching."

"How do you mean?"

"If anyone in town has a special ability you can bet that Sylar will zero in on it real quick-like. I want to get there ahead of him. Know who's at risk."

"You really think he would risk going after someone when he's just been released from Level 5?"

"I think he needs to kill like he needs to breathe. Rather or not he can keep it under control, remains to be seen. But I wouldn't want to bet on his abstinence, would you?"

"And if he makes a move, you'll try to kill him won't you." It wasn't a question.

"I'll do what's necessary... and I'll enjoy it."

Mohinder tensed, emotions colliding within him. "You'll die."

Noah gave Mohinder an odd look, "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I'm only trying to dissuade you from suicidal action."

"Don't worry I'll take precautions. I've got enough tranqs to bring down an elephant and a very large machete. I'm betting he can't re-grow his head."

Mohinder looked at him askew, "No, that's not suicidal thinking at all."

Noah ignored the comment and continued, "Do you remember ever seeing Sylar use an ability that involved energy spheres?"

"Energy spheres?"

"Yeah, bright, pulsing, red spheres."

Mohinder shook his head, "No, I think I would remember that. Of course, he doesn't like to bring out the arsenal unless his back is to the wall."

"He doesn't want anyone to know what he can really do." Noah nodded.

"I always figured it was arrogance."

"How's that?"

Mohinder shrugged, "He doesn't need much more than telekinesis to stop most attacks against him. The average person doesn't stand a chance."

There was more to that comment than the obvious Noah realized. "You did your best Mohinder. More than most would have been able to do and it did help. The information you provided was invaluable."

"My vaccine gave him back his powers. If I had refused to help him..."

"You'd be dead, Molly would be dead, and he would have found another way to get his powers back. You did what you needed to do to survive."

"So many mistakes." Mohinder stared out the window. "So many regrets."

This wasn't good, Noah realized. The scientist was obviously in a precarious emotional state. It had been a mistake to bring him along. Whatever had happened between the two men was eating Mohinder up inside. Noah studied his companion's forlorn face. The earlier comments of suicidal behavior were suddenly making him uncomfortable."Why don't you try and get some rest. We still have another hour or so."

"Rest? I haven't rested in almost three years," Mohinder offered, then turned to stare out the window as the world flashed by.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Angela and Peter Petrelli

Petrelli Mansion

"Mom!" Peter looked from room to room. "Mom, you in here?"

"Out here on the veranda, Peter. I was having some tea, would you like to join me?"

"No, I've got a couple of appointments this afternoon for interviews. I kinda wanted to touch base with you about Claire though. You have a minute?"

She motioned to the nearest chair. "Oh?" Angela sipped at her tea. "Is there a problem?"

"Depends on how you define it, I guess," Peter offered."We had a nice talk at breakfast the other day. Were you aware that she's developed real feelings for Sylar? What am I saying... of course you know."

"Does that surprise you? He is her husband."

"Her husband and her would-be killer." Peter shook his head. "You've been manipulating her. It's not going to end well," Peter paced in front of her.

"Come sit down," she patted the chair next to her. "On the contrary, it's going to end the way it should end."

"Mom, listen to me. The future isn't etched in stone. It's fluid."

"I know that Peter, but my dreams don't lie. I know what I saw. We need him."

"Then you shouldn't have to play games," Peter continued to pace. "If it's meant to be, it's meant to be."

"I agree. All I've done is prime the situation. Sylar doesn't know anymore about his future than Claire does. She came to her feelings for him honestly. And as for Sylar, all he wants is someone to accept him, to ground him... to love him."

"I hope you're right," Peter finally stopped his endless roaming and sat down.

"You saw him in the future Peter, talked to him. He reformed," Angela stated.

"Yeah, he did. But he also lost control and wiped out a city."

"That won't happen, because _that_ future won't happen. It has to be this way, so it doesn't happen. Don't you understand? What you saw then was nothing compared to the future I see, the devastation."

"My future self had the same good intentions, then he tried to kill Nathan. He almost got Claire killed... I almost killed _you_! Do I need to remind you?"

"Why don't you go find Hiro. Let him show you. Then you'll understand why I have to do this."

"All right, all right. I'll keep my mouth shut for the time being but don't expect me to stand by and do nothing if this situation starts to unravel. I won't let Claire get hurt."

"Sylar won't hurt her. He has the same feelings for her that she has for him. They're just not quite finished dancing around each other yet."

"And did Sylar have those feelings for Elle?" Peter reminded her.

"Completely different situation," Angela dismissed. "Elle was damaged goods. Sylar needs a firm hand that can stand up to the darkness inside him, not cater to it."

"She didn't deserve to be murdered."

"Of course not. But playing by Sylar's rules is inviting disaster. Claire's not alone in this. I'm helping to give Sylar the structure he needs to become the good person that he would like to be. That he needs to be... for all our sakes."

Peter closed his eyes, there were just so many things that could go wrong. But wishing the future would turn out differently wasn't the answer either. "Is there anything I can do to help?

Angela's eyebrows slowly rose, "You mean that?"

"I've been there, Mom. I could be out there right now hunting people, killing them. If Sylar needs people to help him stay on the straight and narrow... who better to help?"

Angela seemed to be mulling over the offer. "It won't be easy to get close to him. He's not too trusting, obviously. But he never blamed you for what happened at Pinehurst. In fact, he took good care of you when he thought you were his little brother. And you're still Claire's uncle which also buys you some good grace." She smiled, "It might actually work."

"This isn't some big plot. I really want to help. I want to keep Claire safe and if I need to help Sylar to do that, then I will."

"Oh, I know you mean it, dear." She reached out and patted him on the cheek. "I'll set up a family dinner for all of us when they get back from Vermont. You can start reaching out to him there."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

Route 74

The atmosphere in the SUV had become decidedly cooler since their rather abrupt departure from the diner. Actually, Claire was amazed that Sylar hadn't made good on his threat. She wondered what it was Angela had said or promised him to make him behave. It was kind of cute. He was trying to offer her what he thought she wanted, a "romantic" get-away in the mountains. It _was_ what she wanted, but that didn't mean she didn't enjoy their more "intense" interactions. It didn't mean she wouldn't accommodate her husband's needs.

She wasn't interested in pain or violence but she had to admit to a certain enjoyment of the dominance games and casual bondage that she had experienced with Sylar. Considering everything that had happened between them in the past, Claire was amazed that she was able to trust him enough to allow it. But he always kept his aggressions tempered. He'd never really scared her or forced her to do anything she didn't want to do. Sylar seemed to take much more pleasure in the idea of seducing her than forcing his intentions.

Claire watched her husband from the corner of her eye. His hands were around the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. What she had done back in the diner had been rather cruel but she had been a bit annoyed about the incident in the parking lot. He _had_ used his ability against that man, then lied, knowing that she would know the truth of it. If he wanted to play games... she could too.

But now she realized how wrong that was, how could she expect Sylar to become a better person if she played the same games? If you cared about someone, you didn't use sex against them. It wasn't right.

She scooted over in the seat until she was pressed side to side with Sylar. He instantly tensed. He looked more than a little angry. "I'm sorry," she sighed. Claire had a sudden thought, she couldn't help but grin. "I know you want to make good time to the cottage but I think I owe you a more personal apology." Claire placed her hand on his thigh, her smile grew.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he fairly hissed.

"Apologizing properly." She reached over and popped the rivets on his button-fly jeans, one by one. He had turned his head and was staring at her with a combination of annoyance and intrigue. "Eyes on the road, Mister."

"Claire, so help me god..."

She pressed her hand to his groin and massaged gently. "A little something to hold you over," she whispered in his ear. "I know this is a bit cliché but if you think you can manage without running us off the road. I'd like to give it a try."

Sylar opened his mouth once and then closed it.

"Wow, I've rendered you speechless." She slipped her hand inside his jeans. His skin was on fire... and he was definitely interested. "We're going to have a helluva time explaining ourselves if we end up in a ditch," she giggled. "Though, I guess I would have to be flattered wouldn't I."

That earned her a small grin.

"So have you ever had a fantasy about getting a blowjob while driving down the highway? Anything you'd like to share?" Claire pulled his cock free then slid her hand up and down along the silken skin in light, playful, strokes. He firmed to her touch.

"I... what was the question?"

Claire maneuvered herself sideways on the seat so she could stretch out a bit. Sylar was trying to watch the road and watch her. She pointed ahead. "Front and center," she instructed.

It was so obvious that he was torn between allowing her to take control of the situation or pulling over and ravaging her like she knew he wanted to do, that she smiled. It was just like Sylar to be at war with himself, even in this. "Let me do this for you."

She draped herself against him and he inhaled sharply. Laying her head in his lap, Claire found the angle to be awkward but workable. Holding him firmly in her hand, she laved the head of his cock with her tongue.

Sylar made a small straggled noise in the back of his throat but his eyes remained glued to the road ahead.

"Not enough... friction?" This was kind of fun, she decided, being in control. She had the big, bad killer in the palm of her hand, literally. She could do anything she wanted at this point and he would most likely acquiesce. She grinned and licked him like a lollipop. The sound of cracking glass alerted her that maybe she was taking the teasing a little too far.

Claire began suckling the head of his cock while moving her hand along his shaft. This time the motion was firm and assured. They had been lovers for almost a year now. She knew what he liked. Timid romance wasn't it.

Swallowing as much of him as she could, she fondled his heated flesh with her fingers. Increasing tempo she hummed along his shaft earning a small gasp in response. She hummed a little deeper and the car jerked slightly. She gave him a small admonishing squeeze. She didn't really want to end up in a ditch.

His skin was so hot and hard now she wished she'd just let him bend her over. His reaction to her administrations was making her tingle in all the right places. Oh well, they could spend hours exploring each other soon enough, she decided. Where she couldn't reach with lips and tongue Claire stroked with her fingers until Sylar was almost coming up off the seat against her motions. He was close. She reached her free hand down between her own legs and pressed. Moaning around his cock was Sylar's undoing, he came with a breathless sigh.

Claire returned to her place beside him with a self satisfied expression on her face.

His breathing slowed and he looked over to where she sat with a cocky grin, "Shouldn't I be the smug looking one?"

Claire laughed and leaned in for a kiss. "I take it all is forgiven?"

"I wasn't mad before just... frustrated." He wrapped his arm around her. "That was pretty unexpected though. What prompted such daring?"

Claire shrugged. "I don't know. This is just the first time we've been able to be so... normal. Just the two of us on the road. Two whole weeks away from everything and everyone. I feel free."

"Even though you're spending the _whole two weeks_ with me?"

Claire snuggled into his side. "Actually, I'm looking forward to it. You and I have come a long way this last year. Maybe it's time we look at this marriage differently."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, at this point I don't think it matters how it all started. We're here now and we have a life together. And I think it could be good. We can make something of it... if you want to."

Sylar's brow furrowed slightly. "I... I don't know how to do that."

"It's simple, we do it together. Small steps, like this vacation. No expectations just progress towards happiness."

"You sound like a greeting card." Sylar did not sound convinced.

"And what would that card say? Happiness is a serial killer on the wagon? You know better than that Sylar. I know this isn't a fairy tale. I don't want it to be. I just want the chance at a life... with you."

Sylar's eyes widened slightly. "Ok," was all he could think of to say.

Claire smiled, "You cracked the windshield."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Mohinder and Bennet

St Johnsbury, Vermont

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Just one more ratty roadside motel. How many did this make? Mohinder surveyed his shabby surroundings. Twenty year old TV, check, lumpy mattress covered by a faded bedspread, check, air conditioning unit that wheezed and sputtered like an asthmatic, check.

And would they forever remind him of Sylar? ..the things that they had done together in places like this? The way they had laughed at the cheesy late night porn playing on the old television set, the way Sylar pretty much used him as a pillow always complaining there was a spring in his back. The other sounds that were burned into his mind that had nothing to do with climate control. He hated this place. He hated Sylar for making him love him.

Noah tossed his duffel on the bed.

"We've got adjoining rooms." He motioned to the door near the bathroom. "These rooms give us a good view of both directions in and out of town. There's a market right there across the street and pretty much everything runs along the main road through town. It should make recon fairly easy." The Indian man looked a bit like a lost little boy. Whatever memories this place invoked it wasn't good. "Mohinder?"

"Yeah, no problem. It's fine. When do you want to start?"

"In the morning's soon enough. They were only an hour or so behind us so we should probably grab food now in case they stop in for supplies before they get to the cottage."

-=-=-=--=-=-

By the time Mohinder reached the counter to pay for his groceries he couldn't even remember what he had picked out for dinner. He looked into the hand basket he carried and cringed when he noticed the Oreo cookies. Sylar and he had nearly made themselves sick one night gorging on Oreo's. He had sent Zane.. Sylar.. to the mini-mart for something to eat and the man had come back with three packages of the chocolaty cookies.

Asking Sylar what he could possibly be thinking in buying all the super sweetened chocolate, the killer had mischievously replied that they would need the sugar rush as they would both be up all night. It had taken him a good ten seconds before the meaning behind the words registered and he had blushed furiously. _Who would have thought such deep mocha skin could blush so prettily_, Sylar had rasped in that low tone of his. Mohinder snatched the cookies from his basket and tossed them on a stack of fresh bread next to the counter.

Noah gave him a look. "Just dieting or did the cookies offend you in some way," he tried to lighten the tone.

Mohinder ignored him, handing the cashier a twenty. "I'll meet you back at the rooms," as he turned the scientist put his hand over a small jar and dropped his change in with a clink.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Sylar and Claire

St. Johnsbury, Vermont

"On the road again... just can't wait to get on the road again!!" Claire sang loudly and slightly off key.

"Ok that's it, I warned you three miles ago if you didn't stop with the singing you would have to pay!" Sylar yelled over the enthusiastic tempo.

"Yeah, yeah, big talk but there's nowhere to pull off along here so your threats fall on deaf ears!" she shot back. "Life is a highway... I wanna ride it.. all.. night.. long!" she belted out. This trip was turning out to be a lot of fun, something she didn't get nearly enough of. Her husband actually had a very sharp sense of humor and could even be playful when the mood struck. She was relaxed and happy.

It surprised her a little to realize how comfortable she had become with him. Without any outside influences they seemed to connect. No company to remind them that they were different, no grandmother to manipulate them and their feelings, no father to accuse them... They were real.

"You asked for it," was all she heard before there was a sudden sensation along her ribcage. Claire's eyes went wide. "Oh my god!" she rasped as she felt fingers that weren't really there.. dig in. "No fair!!" she squeaked as Sylar tickled her.

Sylar glanced over at where she writhed in the passenger seat, wicked smirk firmly in place. "Fair? You're not serious. You expect me to play fair??"

"No stop!! Stop!" she choked out. "You can't do this!"

"I can't?" Sylar looked over at her incredulously. "I think I can... and will. Repeat after me, I will not sing obnoxious songs and annoy my husband."

"ARH! Ok, ok, you will not sing obnoxious songs.." Claire giggled defiantly.

"You'll never give up will you.." Sylar chuckled. "We're a perfect match."

Claire squealed and slid off the seat into a cramped heap on the floor. The tickling sensation stopped and she drew in gasps of air in a rush. "Nope, no intention.. of giving.. up.". she smiled lightly, "Because imperfect as we are.. we _are_ a perfect match."

Sylar wouldn't meet her eyes but a smile lit his face, "We're here."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Oh, this place is just beautiful isn't it?" Claire enthused.

Sylar looked at the passing businesses and the old time village atmosphere with a disinterested gaze, "I guess. Looks like every other small town to me."

"Don't be so cynical. This place is really nice. We'll have a good time together."

That melted the hard carriage of Sylar's face and he sighed, "You know that I'm completely out of my element here... and I don't mean the small town."

"I know. I'm not exactly a relationship expert either you know." She slid over next to him and laced her arm around his. "Remember what I said, no expectations. We just.. hang out. Get to know each other better.."

Sylar smirked.

"I wasn't referring to _that_ but," she leaned over and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, "I'm looking forward to a lot of _that_ too." Claire smiled. "Hey, there's a little market, there on the right. Let's stop."

Sylar slid the SUV into a space right in front of the doors. "Didn't Mama P say the place would be stocked by the time we got here?"

"Yeah, but this is what average married couples do," Claire informed him as she opened the car door. "And for the next two weeks we are going to be the most average people on the planet."

Sylar trailed behind her, "Yeah, that'll work out well."

"Hush," she admonished lightly and took his hand in hers.

"We're going to hold hands?" he looked at her with a disbelieving expression.

"Yep," Claire answered, tugging him towards the market.

"What planet did you say you were from?" Sylar quipped.

Claire gave him a light smack on the arm, "We're allowed to be all silly and romantic about every little thing because technically we're still newlyweds and this is a honeymoon so don't rain on my parade Mister Gray or I will become very cranky."

Sylar eyed the sky speculatively, "That's one ability I haven't acquired yet but weather control could be.." the rest of the thought died away at Claire's expression.

"What's your thoughts on fish sticks?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As they moved up in the line, Claire leaned into Sylar and finished, "I didn't think I was ever going to live that one down."

Sylar smiled at her, "The trials and tribulations of an uptown cheerleader."

"Hey! Don't be mean. I'm sharing here. It was a traumatic experience for a thirteen year old."

"Uh huh, versus all the other things that have happened in your life, that sounds positively devastating," Sylar responded with little sympathy.

"Yeah well, those _other_ things have become just as commonplace." She sat the hand basket on the counter and turned to her husband, "Probably not such a good thing, huh."

"I'm really not the one to ask." Sylar added, "But I suppose you could think of it as a testament to our ability to adapt."

The cashier began ringing up their items.

"Yeah, that's true I guess. We're still here." Claire looked thoughtful.

"Together," Sylar ventured.

She smiled up at him, "Yes, together."

"That'll be forty one eighty," the cashier interjected. "Let me guess.. newlyweds."

"Yes, we are," Claire stated. "Are we that obvious?"

"Looks like love to me," the cashier offered.

Sylar shoved forty five dollars at the kid, "Here."

Claire started laughing.

"What?" Sylar's brow furrowed.

"Why Mister Gray, if I didn't know any better I would think you were blushing", she teased.

"You sure you want to cross that line with me _Missus Gray?"_

Claire grabbed the bag of groceries off the counter. "We crossed that line a long, long time ago. Guess you're just going to have to catch up huh," and with that Claire turned and sashayed towards the door.

The cashier handed Sylar his change, "I'm thinking she's a handful."

The former serial killer turned back to the clerk. "Don't think about my wife.. ever," his intent quite clear. He leaned over and dropped the change into the jar, his hand brushing it's surface. An image flashed across his mind like lightning.

"Mohinder."


	5. Part 5

Sylar and Claire

Petrelli Cottage, St. Johnsbury, Vermont

Claire pushed the carrots around on her plate and stole a glance across the table at her husband. What the hell had happened? Everything was going so well. She thought they would both be able to leave the problems of their "other" life behind, if only for awhile. But something had changed, abruptly. Sylar's light mood had taken a decidedly dark turn when they left the market. He was trying to hide it but wasn't doing a very good job. "Don't you like the veal? You haven't taken more than two bites."

"It's fine. I'm just not very hungry."

Claire nodded, "Fine is the universal answer for anything but.."

Sylar tossed his napkin over his plate. His eyes were dark and stormy. "I'm really trying, Claire. You know that. I want something that's good in my life. But it just seems like no matter what I try, something or someone has other ideas."

"Who or what are we talking about?"

Sylar shook his head, "Doesn't matter. Forget it. I'm sorry. I'm fucking this up just like I fuck up everything else."

Claire reached across the table and put her hand over his. "Hey, whatever you're thinking, stop it. Ok? Just stop. All that matters right now is you and me. Whatever plots or plans that people around us might have.. don't matter. I've made my choice. I'm exactly where I want to be."

"What if destiny has other plans?"

"We make our own destinies. I have to believe that. If we want this bad enough then we can have it."

"Whatever it takes?" his expression was now curious and open.

Claire smiled at him, "If I wasn't up for a challenge I wouldn't be with you, now would I?"

Sylar quirked a brow, "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Definitely." She could feel the tension in Sylar's hand relax just slightly. "How about some dessert?"

"What did you have in mind?" he asked in a suggestive tone, his normally cocky attitude now in evidence.

Claire gave him a coy grin, "Want to start with some pie?"

Sylar laughed, "Claire flavored?"

"You are a wicked man Mister Gray." Claire rose and headed off to the kitchen. Calling back to him she added, "I think I like it," and put an extra little wiggle in her walk.

Sylar watched with interest, murmuring under his breath, "Whatever it takes."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Noah adjusted his jacket, zipping it all the way up to the neck. It was damn cold already and it was barely eight o'clock. He held the night vision binoculars to his eyes and scanned the perimeter. Nothing was moving, not even animals. Obviously, they were smarter than he was. He was going to become hypothermic out here.

Mohinder had seemed more than relieved when Noah told him he was just going to make a quick recon and didn't need his help. Sylar had seriously fucked up the guy's head. He suspected that it had more to do with what Mohinder had felt for "Zane" than what had actually happened between them. It was tearing the scientist apart.

It was too late to help Mohinder, he knew. The man would either pull himself clear of the anger and guilt or be consumed by it. But now he was wondering if it was too late for Claire as well. No matter how much he wanted to live in denial, events were proving him wrong at every juncture. Claire had real feelings for Sylar. She was in love with him. His anger sharpened dangerously. Sylar had to be influencing her. It was the only answer. He wouldn't accept that his Claire-bear could love that monster.

He couldn't.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire snuggled into the down comforter, the puffy white fabric practically swallowing her whole. She sighed lightly. While her husband had rallied somewhat during dessert it was still obvious that something was bothering him. She knew that despite what Sylar was capable of understanding, when it came to things like a normal emotional connection, he was clueless. He was probably just as scared as she was about taking this next step, maybe more so. But if they were going to make this work then they couldn't keep playing the denial game. "When are you coming to bed? Sylar, come on," Claire called out.

Sylar stood at the picture window staring out into the dark. He had always felt a kinship with that darkness, like he belonged there. His history tended to prove him right on that account. Every time he had tried to live openly and just be himself, it had turned out disastrously. People ended up dead. He ended up alone.

Of all the things he was able to understand why was it that he couldn't understand this? Why couldn't he make that connection to another human being? Maybe Bennet was right, and if he was right, then it was pointless to continue to try. It would only end badly for all involved.

"Sylar, come on..."

But Claire seemed so sure. She really believed that they could mold their own destinies rather than become slave to them. But she didn't understand things the way that he did. She couldn't see the world behind the world. There were larger forces at work around them. Forces, he was only now becoming fully aware of... and it scared the hell out of him. But he wanted this. He wanted her... and what she represented. Could he really have the power and still remain human? Was force of will all he really needed?

A small motion at the tree line caught Sylar's immediate attention. His eyes filled with luciferin and suddenly the landscape around the cottage came into clear relief. There was something moving in the undergrowth. Probably just an animal, he thought, nothing to be concerned about. A small spark of light changed his mind.

His refractive eyes had discerned something light reflective like glass or metal. Not many animals carried those types of things around. There was someone out there at the tree line, watching. Though, it might just be the babysitters that Angela had insisted on sending along.. somehow he doubted it. If Mohinder was here, then there was more going on than simple surveillance.

He hadn't seen the scientist since the man had beaten his head against the floor at Pinehurst. He wasn't really angry about the incident. He understood what Mohinder's issues were with him. He had really hoped that they could remain friends. Friends, for him, were hard to come by. But when you kill the guy's father, he supposed that it was a bit too much to ask for.

At the time, he had been so confused about what was happening to him. So full of rage and fear that Chandra's decision to cut him out of the project seemed like a betrayal. Now he realized that Chandra had probably just been scared of what he was becoming.. and rightly so.

Had he understood that then, would it have changed the outcome? Would Chandra still be alive today? Sylar pondered. He was nothing, if not honest. No, it probably wouldn't have made a difference in the end. He would have killed Chandra regardless. The geneticist was the only one at the time that knew anything about him and what was happening to him. If Chandra wasn't on his side then he was the enemy.

Then Mohinder happened along, so eager to pick up where his father had left off. He had made it so easy, Sylar mused. Everything had been going smoothly. Mohinder working on creating a list of specials, and he, helping to keep the man on track while feeding his hunger. It worked out perfectly for those three months... until Mohinder spotted that news article on Zane Taylor's murder. Even then, the situation might have been salvageable if not for Peter Petrelli.

"Which leads back to the issue at hand, Mohinder here.. now," Sylar thought.

"Ok, I'm just going to start without you," Claire sing-songed.

Sylar turned away from the window with a frown. "Just remember what you agreed to Claire.." he stated quietly, "Whatever it takes."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ok, now she was getting worried. What the heck was Sylar doing... a large dark shape came flying towards the bed and landed with a big wump, bouncing her into the air like a doll. "Hey!"

Sylar pounced on the bed with a grin plastered on his face. "So what did I miss?"

Claire rolled her eyes. "Like I'm going to tell you."

He cocked his head at her, first one way then the other.

"What?"

"You look like you're drowning in marshmallows." He grabbed the comforter and yanked hard.

"Hey! It's cold!" Claire made a desperate grab for the covers.

"I'll keep you warm," he eyed her up and down. "Black and silky. Is that for me?"

"Well, I'm sure as heck not wearing it to keep warm," Claire retorted, "Get in here will you?" she motioned to the spot next to her on the bed and tugged at the comforter.

Sylar slid in next to her and she snuggled against his chest, her leg thrown casually over his. "Ahh, much better."

He wrapped his arm around her, "You're right, this is much better."

Claire ran her hand idly across his chiseled chest, "So you're feeling better?"

"Feel for yourself," he smirked, taking her hand and sliding it further down.

Claire cupped him lightly. "Can I ask you something?" she ventured.

"Hmm?" his fingers drew small circles along her side.

"What did you see for yourself before all this stuff with abilities happened? I mean, did you want the steady job, a wife, and two point five kids, house in the burbs, that kind of life?"

Sylar was quiet a moment. "Is that what you want?"

"That's what I always assumed I'd have. I mean, it's what we see and know, right? It's what normal people do."

"You didn't answer the question."

"Neither did you," Claire looked over at her husband. "What do you want?"

"We're not normal, Claire."

"Please don't do that. If we can't learn to trust each other then we have nothing," she pleaded. She needed him to understand that this was important to her. For a moment she feared he wasn't going to answer.

"Every night I lay down next to you and close my eyes, it's trusting you, he started. "You could incapacitate me and cut my head off. Or find some other way to kill me. As much as I able to trust anyone, I trust you, Claire. You can believe that."

Claire knew for Sylar that statement was opening the door wide. But would he cross that threshold for her? "I do believe you. But can you trust me with what you feel? Can you give me that?"

Sylar shifted slightly. "I.. I haven't had much luck with the whole feelings thing. I tend to scare people."

Claire held her breath.

"My life was really ordinary, you know... but I don't think I was ever ordinary, not inside anyway. I knew what was expected of me, just like you did. I thought I knew where I'd end up. But I also felt it was wrong. I knew it. It wasn't what I wanted. It wasn't where I belonged."

"What _did_ you want? What _do_ you want?"

He shrugged lightly and she pressed herself closer. "The only thing I'm sure of is that here and now, with you, I'm content. This is where I want to be. Is that enough?"

A small smile touched her lips, "It's a start."

--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Angela Petrelli

New York City

The streets were eerily silent as Angela walked. No sound at all, not even the heels of her expensive shoes clicking on the black asphalt. She looked up and down the long New York street but nothing moved. No people, no cars, no life. "No please, not again," she murmured.

Turning around she called out, "Is anyone there?" Her words echoed hollowly off the buildings.

A low sound seemed to reverberate in her bones and as she watched blood began to pour down the walls of the surrounding buildings. She was instantly overwhelmed with the taste of copper in her mouth. "No, please," she begged. The viscous fluid filled the streets and washed over her shoes.

She bit back a scream of revulsion and started running but everywhere she turned blood was streaming in rivers. It was in the streets, on the sidewalks, covering every surface in deep red. Suddenly the vibration she felt increased and the buildings began to groan in protest. Windows burst into deadly shards but there was no one there to feel their stinging cut... but still, the blood flowed.

Cracks began to appear in the street, the openings widened and spread, traveling up the buildings. Pieces of masonry fell to the road and exploded. A foul odor wafted up through the cavities as if hell itself was clawing its way out.

"Please!" Angela cried out, "Show me how to make it stop! I can't.. I don't understand."

The world around her abruptly faded and she found herself standing in a suburban living room. The laughter of a small child caught her attention and she walked to the window. There was a swing set up in the backyard and Sylar was pushing a child back and forth. "Daddy!" he squealed with glee.

Sitting on the grass, watching with unconcealed amusement was Claire. "Anyone want some cheesecake?" she coaxed.

The little boy yelled, "Yeah!" His father echoed the sentiment. Sylar scooped the child from the swing and tossed him over his shoulder. The boy giggled delightedly. "Come on Noah, time for a sugar rush!"

Sylar sat them both down next to Claire. He leaned over and kissed Claire with something akin to reverence. She looked back at him and cupped his cheek against her palm. "I love you," she stated.

He smiled, "It never ceases to amaze me every time you say that. You are everything to me Claire Gray. You and Noah, are the world." Sylar reached out and tickled his son, who rolled back and forth, swatting at his hand, his laughter dancing on the air. "Ready for cheesecake, little man?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

Angela smiled. They were a picture of happiness and familial love. The immortal serial killer, the indestructible cheerleader, and their adorable child. How strange could life get?

There was a rumbling above her. Angela gazed upwards and the sky darkened to black. It's countenance a swirling mass of bloated tendrils. Angela looked back to the family moment. They didn't seem to notice anything was wrong.

Trees withered and plant-life died but Claire merely smiled adoringly at Sylar and hugged her child close. The air was filled with smoke and a deep wailing could be heard as the world suffered its death throes.

Then there was silence.

Angela sat bolt up-right in bed, sucking in breath with ragged gasps. She fumbled for the lamp, bringing her bedroom into stark relief. Her heart was thundering in her chest. They didn't have much time, the dreams were coming more frequently and were much more vivid. She could still taste copper on her tongue.

It was always the same. The world was dying horribly and there was no one there that could stop it. Everyone would die. Unless... Sylar, it came back to Sylar. She wasn't the only one that saw his future reformation. Peter had seen it too. It was all tied into his life with Claire. There was something Sylar needed to do. But dreams weren't always clear. They were full of archetypes and metaphors.

It seemed like everything in the present was headed in the direction it should but why did her dreams say otherwise? Why was the world dying around them? She almost sobbed in frustration.

God, how she hated the idea of returning to that future night after night but there wasn't a choice. She needed to dream it, needed to figure out what had to be done to stop it. Everything depended on her ability... and a certain serial killer.


	6. Part 6

FYI to Readers: doesn't really give you much room to summarize your stories so I'm giving you a little heads-up. This story is DEFINITELY a Sylar/Claire ship (and it has already been outlined to completion) however, there are a few references to a past relationship between Sylar and Mohinder. It's in context to his past and won't be explored in depth or graphically. But if you have a problem with a bi-character... well, I have to wonder what century you're living in.

Sylar and Claire

St Johnsbury, Vermont

The morning was clear and crisp. Claire stretched her arms and yawned. She nestled closer to her husband with a light smile. Why couldn't life be as simple as this? She looked over at Sylar's calm face. In sleep, he looked very different from the intense eyed killer of his waking hours. He looked vulnerable... human. She smirked as she trailed her hand under the covers. Sylar inhaled sharply but didn't wake. Quite human as it turned out.

Claire looked at the clock. It was almost eight. She was hoping to get Sylar to agree to a stroll down Main Street and Antique Square. She wanted to pick up a couple of things for her mom. Maybe a tasty breakfast would encourage a positive response from her husband on shopping. She looked over at him again, probably not. Men just weren't wired that way. She slipped out of bed and grabbed her robe. She smiled lightly. Could life get any stranger? She couldn't say she really minded a bit.

-=-=-==-=-=-=-

Noah and Mohinder

St Johnsbury, Vermont

"I've done some recon around town. We have a potential."

"A potential... for what?"

"Not what. Who."

Mohinder stopped up short. "You mean you found a special."

"Looks that way, yeah." Noah dropped an extra clip for his auto into his jacket pocket. "It's a good starting point. We'll just hang back and see what happens."

Mohinder nodded, "Of course. Wait and see what happens."

"You don't need to worry. There are two agents on surveillance and then there will be us. We've got this covered. He makes a move and he goes down.. for good." He patted the scientist on the shoulder. "You ready?"

"Hardly, let's just get on with it."

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire gasped. "Isn't this just the cutest thing you've ever seen," she gushed. She held up a little ceramic Pomeranian. "Mom will love this, it looks just like Mister Muggles!"

Sylar rolled his eyes. "Yeah, adorable. Can we go now?"

"We've only been shopping a couple of hours, you know," Claire stated with a grin.

"Seems like an eternity," Sylar lamented.

"Ok, ok," she laughed. Claire paid for her purchase and they weaved their way through the throngs of sidewalk shoppers. She laced her arm through his as they walked. "I'm glad it turned out to be such a nice day. I want to stay outside all day if we can."

"Not shopping, I hope."

"No, I promise I won't do that to you. Do you like to hike?"

Sylar shrugged, "I grew up in New York. Didn't get much of a chance to hike. Sounds ok though."

"There's a fall not too far from the cottage and some nice areas for a picnic. As long as the weather holds out I thought we could give it a try."

"We're gonna "rough it" huh?" Sylar gave her a squeeze.

She smiled, "I don't know that I would call a picnic in the woods, "roughing it" but it's really beautiful around here. Relaxing, private."

"I sense an ulterior motive," he replied thoughtfully.

Claire blinked at him, "I don't know what you mean."

"Uh huh, come on, let's hear your diabolical plan," he coaxed.

Claire stopped and looked up at him. "I don't have a diabolical plan! I just thought... you know, good food... good conversation."

His eyebrows shot up, "Oh man, you want to talk about feelings and crap don't you?"

"How else are we supposed to get to know each other better," Claire frowned at him.

Sylar shook his head, "What do you want to know? You already know all the major stuff. How can knowing my favorite color help anything?"

"This isn't about knowing your favorite color," she sighed. "And yeah, I know past events. But I don't know them from your perspective."

"You don't want to go there, Claire, nothing good will come of it." His eyes darkened slightly.

"All right, but what about how you're feeling now. About what we're trying to do."

"I'm here aren't I? Doesn't that say everything?"

"No, it doesn't," Claire was getting frustrated. He wasn't going to clam up on her now. They had come too far. "I just have some thoughts, some questions, and I figured we could..."

"What happened to no expectations?" he interrupted.

"No expectations, doesn't mean you don't have to try!" she stated emphatically.

"Try? That's all I do is try. I try not to hurt people. I try to be a good person. I try to be what everyone else wants me to be. What more could I possible try!" his voice rose and people around them turned to stare.

Claire scanned the crowd, "This is probably not the best place for this conversation."

"There is no good place for this conversation," he said with finality. "I'm going to find a Starbucks. Just.. just finish your shopping. I'll see you later." With that he turned and strode off leaving Claire confused and a little hurt.

-==-=-=-=--=-=-=-

Sylar shoved his hands in his jean pockets and put his head down. Was she serious? All the things that had happened in his past and she wanted to talk about it? This wasn't some fucking therapy session. Claire was his wife. He wasn't sure what he expected from this "vacation" of theirs and the whole getting "closer" but talking about things he wanted to forget wasn't it.

Frankly, he had been hoping that it involved a lot of time rolling around in bed. Maybe some soft words and cuddling on his part, he could do that for her, no problem. But delving into "feelings"? God, women were weird. Better to leave things unsaid, better to not look into the abyss because he knew from experience that the abyss did look back.

Besides, he didn't owe anyone any explanations. He wouldn't apologize for his horrific acts. He couldn't, because if he did that, then he would have to admit to his guilt. Over time, he had been able to turn his emotions off when the need arose. He gained nothing in recalling those feelings to the surface. The last time he'd done that, he had tried to hang himself. He wouldn't put himself on display as the poster boy for redemption. Hell, he wasn't even sure he wanted redemption.

His ability tickled at the back of his mind. It was like Pavlov's dogs salivating at the bell. It beckoned like a siren, so much power, so much to understand. But it was so lonely.

Sylar sighed. He needed to apologize to Claire. Storming off wasn't going to accomplish anything. He shook his head. He didn't need this distraction. He should be concentrating on his new ability, honing it, not playing house with the cheerleader. But he liked his relationship with Claire. She was the closest thing to family that he had. Family should be important. It should mean something.

It shouldn't be this hard. Even a bastard like his father was able to accomplish a family. He paused in his thoughts, yeah, back that one up, it didn't exactly end well. His father murdered his mother in front of him then sold him for the first cash offer. Not exactly a glowing recommendation on the merits of family.

And his adopted family, what a joke. A would-be father that left as fast as he could get away, and a mother just this side of crazier than a loon. He'd tried to please her as best as he knew how.. but that ended in blood. Just like all his relationships had ended, with hatred, fear, blood, and death. Is that really what he wanted for Claire? If he cared anything at all for her, he'd leave while she was still in one piece and relatively sane he told himself. But then he'd be all alone again.

Something brushed across his senses like the feather touch of a ghost. Sylar stopped up short and looked around. He knew the sensation, he knew it very well. Someone with ability was close by. Whatever the power, it was subtle, or at least it was subtly being used. His eyes dilated and he honed in on the direction of the energy. Just up the block on the left, all he had to do was follow his senses and they would lead him right to the target.

He took a deep breath. No, no, no, not a target. That train of thought would get him into trouble. This wasn't such a good idea after all. He should get back to Claire. Keep his attention focused on her, where it belonged.

Instead of heading straight down the street towards trouble he didn't need, Sylar turned the nearest corner deciding to walk off his doubts and confusion. He'd find Claire and they'd do the picnic thing. If she really wanted to talk then he'd find a way to tell her what she wanted to hear. He could keep it together. He could be the man she needed him to be.

His mind now calm and resolved, Sylar smiled lightly to himself then glanced across the street. Through the plate glass window of the small bistro he caught sight of a head of curly black hair.

"Mohinder," he growled.

* * *

Mohinder walked back to the motel slowly. He would rather be anywhere than back in that room. It was a nice enough day if a little chill. He could find a park bench and eat his lunch there. He sighed, no, Bennet wouldn't like that. The company man wanted them to stay out of sight. They were dodging not only their quarry but the team Angela had sent to keep an eye on the couple.

Bennet had gone to check on the possible "special" and see what intel he would find on him. Then he was going to check in on Claire and make sure she was ok. Of course she wasn't ok. She was married to a murdering monster, Mohinder thought. That was about as far from ok as one could get.

About ten minutes later Mohinder found himself, key in hand, outside his motel room. He felt a sudden chill against his skin. *_They're out there Mohinder, and we'll find them. We'll find them all.* _He trembled slightly.He had no doubt that if he hadn't run across the article on Zane Taylor's murder that Sylar would have done just that. How many more would have died? How many more would be on his conscience?

Mohinder shut the door behind him and found himself thrown forward into the wall. His face smashed into plaster splitting his lip.

"Well, who do we have here?" A low, raspy voice inquired.

The geneticist's heart caught in his throat.

"Hello Mohinder, it's been a long time."

Sylar pressed in close to the pinned man. His breath ghosted along the man's neck. He inhaled deeply. "Mmm, you still smell like spice."

Mohinder closed his eyes. He couldn't stop the fear that crawled along his skin making him shiver.

"Aw, you're trembling for me, that's so sweet," Sylar rasped. "I remember us being in this position before. Only I wasn't pinning you with telekinesis."

Mohinder found his voice, "Just do whatever it is you're going to do and get it over with."

"Do? Why Mohinder, I'm a married man now. There won't be any *doing*... at least not with you."

"I hate you so much," hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

Sylar pressed in tight. Mohinder could feel his chest muscles against his back. His skin was like fire. He felt the air around them compress until it was hard for him to breathe. He was starting to panic when Sylar stepped away.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't hurt you. I don't need to... do I."

Mohinder drew in a ragged gasp of air.

"I'm thinking that it's not a coincidence that you happen to be in the same Podunk little Vermont town am I, right? No, I'm guessing you're here with something specific in mind." Sylar braced himself against the wall with one arm. "And since I think it unlikely that you would come after me all on your own then I have to assume you have cohorts."

Sylar breathed into his ear, "Should I guess?" He changed sides, whispering into the other ear, "I'm going out on a limb here and saying you're here with my father-in-law, am I right?"

"Like I said, whatever you're going to do just get it over with."

Sylar chuckled, "You always did have more heart than brains, which is saying a lot because you're a smart guy. And because you're a smart guy I'm going to give you a chance to make it right. Go back to New York, Mohinder, leave Claire and me alone."

The pressure around him relaxed and Mohinder turned to face his tormentor. "I like you, I really do, but you know I will do what I have to do to protect what's mine. This is the only warning you'll get. Stay away from me. Better yet, stay away from Noah Bennet. He'll just get you killed."

Mohinder swallowed the lump in his throat. "That refrain is getting a bit old don't you think? You're either trying to kill me or you want my help. You need to make up your mind."

Sylar cocked his head, "I'm just giving you some sound advice." The killer took a step back and gave Mohinder an appraising look.

Mohinder scoffed openly, "I know how concerned you are for my welfare."

"I don't give a flying fuck about your welfare but I do care about Claire. Threatening my relationship will put you on my shit list real quick."

"So I'm supposed to believe you have Claire's welfare in mind or just your own?"

"I don't care what you believe, Mohinder. Back off now... while you still can."

"What are you worried about, Sylar? If you're not doing anything wrong then there's no reason for you to worry about Bennet or me. Is there?"

Mohinder felt a sudden pressure on his throat. He felt himself being hoisted upwards along the wall. He was already on tiptoes as his vision blackened around the edges. "What are… you hiding..," Mohinder choked out, "That has you so worried?"

Sylar smiled unpleasantly, "Do I look worried?" Suddenly the force of telekinesis was gone and Mohinder slid to the floor in a heap. "Look Mohinder, I'll talk to you man to man, I figure I owe you that much." Sylar took a couple of steps back and raised his hands slightly, "I'm really trying to be a good person for Claire. Trying to be the kind of husband she deserves but I don't respond well to pressure. Just leave us alone. I can do this... if everyone will just leave us be. Isn't that what everyone wants... to stop the killings?"

Mohinder looked at him incredulously, "You really are that out of touch with reality aren't you?"

Sylar's expression darkened dangerously, "Not the way to get on my good side."

"You don't have a good side. You're psychotic! You think that you can just walk away from your past? You think people will just forgive and forget because you decide not to kill anymore? There are consequences. You made your choice and you will have to live with it for the rest of your days. Count on it!"

"Well, this is going nowhere," Sylar offered with a small sigh. "Don't say I didn't try." Sylar turned to leave. "Oh by the way," he turned back, "Tell Bennet the honeymoon has been _really_ special so far." Sylar smiled. "Claire has become some kinda woman, she knows what she likes... she knows what I like too."

Sylar winked as he closed the door.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Claire walked slowly back to the car. Maybe Sylar was right. They couldn't solve the problems of the last three years in a couple of weeks. But no matter how long it took, the past was not going to be an easy subject. Still, she had questions, concerns, and she was entitled to a few answers even if he didn't want to give them.

The only time they had actually addressed the past was before they got married and that hadn't been productive at all. It ended up an ugly battle of recriminations and accusations that only succeeded in opening old wounds. It wouldn't help anyone at this juncture to relive the past. And she didn't want that, but she needed to clarify a few things for her own peace of mind.

She was talking about opening her heart to a man that could quite literally rip it out. And while she did trust him on certain levels, it was obvious that in other things he couldn't really be trusted at all. Though she'd been able to talk him down when he relapsed, the urge to absorb other abilities wasn't just going to go away. She'd accepted that part of their relationship but now there was a potential for them to have a more normal relationship. That would mean a real home, family, friends.

Claire sat her bags down and opened the car door. Other than Angela and Peter there wasn't really anyone in her family that would accept Sylar into their lives. Her mom would try for her sake but Sandra could barely tolerate being in the same room as Sylar without breaking out in hives. Angela was, well, Angela, and had her own agenda for making this work. She wasn't sure having her in the picture was any better than not having her in the picture. Her fathers, both of them, were another ugly can of worms.

There was her dad who wanted nothing more out of life than to kill Sylar. Enough said there. There was her bio-dad, Nathan. When it became plain that she wasn't going to back out of the deal with Sylar despite everyone's protests, Nathan had made it clear that he couldn't be associated with anything that might come back to ruin his political aspirations. And welcoming a super-charged serial killer into the family would tend to kill a career as easily as a live target. Not that Nathan had acknowledged her publicly as his daughter anyway, that was another potential career killer. She was almost as much of a liability to her bio-dad as Sylar was. Super-charged illegitimate daughter from a trailer trash affair, the constituents would love that.

Nathan had always been selfish. His life, his career, would always come first. It didn't bother her much. While they had managed to become closer over the last three years, the things that he had done didn't rate him much lower than Sylar on the need for redemption scale, in her opinion. Her bio-dad could use some serious soul searching. Not that it would happen any time soon. Nathan felt completely justified in his actions and what didn't sit well with his conscience, he chose to ignore.

Claire tossed the bags onto the seat and slid into the car. She leaned her head back. Then there was Peter. She had felt an immediate connection to him. It wasn't just that he had saved her from Sylar the first time he had tried to kill her. She had liked her uncle instantly, as if she had known him for years. He was one of the few, the only, that she could count on to help make this work. She'd give him a call as soon as they got back to New York. Peter had the patience of a saint sometimes and that's what he would need if he wanted to make inroads with Sylar.

A tap on the window made her jump. "Sylar!" He was grinning at her, she immediately wondered what he had been up to and gave him a look. His smile only got bigger and he held up two huge bags of what looked to be groceries. She rolled the window down. "What's all that?"

"You did say something about a picnic, right? So we need food," he offered.

She looked at the overflowing bags. "Is it just the two of us or are you bringing friends?"

Sylar scoffed, "Like I have any friends. You driving?"

"If you want me..." Claire suddenly found herself sliding sideways in the seat until she was on the passenger side. "Hey! You know I don't like it when you do that! I'm not a puppet for you to do with as you please."

Sylar jumped into the driver's seat and slid over next to her. "I'm sorry, Claire. I really am. Can we try this again?" He nuzzled her neck for some incentive.

"Oh, I see how this is going to be." She swatted at him playfully. "You think you can just charm your way into my good graces."

Sylar drew back from where he was kissing her shoulder, "Yeah, pretty much." He gave her his best doe-eyed expression. "Is it working?"

She looked into his eyes, "All playing aside..."

"Yeah, yeah, don't say it. I know." Sylar straightened, "Can we just move slow on this whole, bare our souls thing? It freaks me out."

Claire nodded, "I get it. I won't push... hard."

Sylar smirked. "How hard?"

Claire eyed him, "Oh come on, stop reading innuendo into everything I say."

"Why?" Sylar leisurely stretched.

"Well, because..." she offered.

He waited.

"Because, that's not what I meant!"

Sylar started chuckling. "You know you're really cute when you blush. All the sexy stuff you do with me and you still blush like a schoolgirl."

Claire harrumphed, "I don't know if I should be insulted by that statement or not." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Why would you be insulted about something that I adore?"

Claire looked at him, fighting the smile that was threatening to erupt, "Damn, you're good."

"I am aren't I," he agreed.

"A little modesty wouldn't hurt," Claire added drily.

"I'm super-smart, super-powered, and super-sexy, why would I need to be modest?" He grinned.

They both broke out in laughter.

**-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-**

"I got the intel on our potential, Mark Hammond, thirty six, recently quit his job as a .." Noah stopped up short. "Mohinder?"

Mohinder sat with his head in his hands. "This won't work, Noah."

"Why not?"

"Because he already knows we're here."

Noah sat down in the chair opposite, "Are you sure?"

"Very. He was here."

Noah threw up his hands. "Damn it. All right, all right. We can fix it. We're not screwed quite yet."

"How do you figure that?"

"Granted, he'll be on his best behavior now but Sylar doesn't have a lot of self control. All we need to do is push the right buttons and..."

"What are you talking about?!" Mohinder erupted, "You want to try and goad him into hurting someone?"

"No one will get hurt, Mohinder. We'll be right there to stop him."

"No," the geneticist offered quietly.

"No?"

"It's over. He knows we're here. Whatever he's up to, he's not about to slip up now. And I'm not going to put anyone else in his crosshairs."

Noah only heard what he wanted to hear. "So you think he's up to something then?"

Mohinder shrugged, "He was worried about us being here. I could tell. He explained it away, said he just needed time with Claire. Whatever it is he doesn't want anyone around."

"All the more reason that we should stay." Noah started pacing. "I've had this feeling there was something going on with him. Ever since that little demonstration proved he was holding back on his powers."

"The energy spheres?"

"Uh huh, I tried to tell Angela there was something more to it but she wouldn't listen," Noah offered with conviction.

"Why do you think it has anything to do with this? Given who we're dealing with, it could be just about anything."

"Maybe. Let's call it the voice of experience. I'm onto something with this."

Mohinder closed his eyes and nodded. He stood slowly, "What do you need me to do?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Oh my, this place is gorgeous." Claire watched the water cascading over the boulders, it was, quite simply, beautiful. They couldn't have found a more perfect spot for a picnic.

"Yeah, it's pretty nice. How about a little campfire just to take the crisp edge off?"

"Sounds wonderful. I'll unpack and get lunch started."

Sylar walked around the glade collecting small twigs and sticks. He watched as Claire hummed contentedly to herself. He had made the right decision. Whatever his wife needed, he would take care of her... and he would take care of anyone that got in the way of their happiness. He wanted this, he wanted her. For now, he would have to keep certain things from her. He knew she wouldn't understand his needs when it came to his ability. So be it. One day, he would have any ability he wanted at his command then she would see. He would gift her with the same intuitive ability he had.. but without the hunger. Then they would truly be perfect.. eternal.. soulmates.

"Interesting selection of picnic food," Claire commented.

He shrugged, "I just got a little of everything."

"I see that. You have wine and cheese." She held up the brie wheel. "Oh and strawberries." She dug further into the bag, "And then you have hotdogs and chips... and beer." She dug around a bit more and pulled a tin from the bag. She started to giggle, "Am I to take this as a hint?" She held up a tin of oysters.

"Hint hell, it's an outright bribe."

Claire laughed lightly. "You're insatiable, you know that?"

Sylar put his collected sticks into a pile. "I'm certainly that," he agreed. And that was a problem, he thought. A small spark shot from his finger and ignited the kindling.

"Hey," Claire came up behind and wrapped her arms around him. "It's not all bad, you know. Appetites can be controlled. You've proven that. I believe in you, Sylar."

He turned and pulled her into his arms. "No one has ever said that to me before. And for you to.. after all that's happened. All that I've put you through.." he looked away, "If I didn't have the ability to tell when you're lying, I wouldn't believe you. How's that for sharing?"

"It's honest," Claire smiled ruefully. "If I hadn't spent the last year and a half getting to know you, I wouldn't have believed it possible." She pulled away slightly. "I talked to Peter. He told some things. It helped me a lot."

"Told you things?"

"About what happened at Pinehurst. About what he did... what you did."

Sylar rolled his eyes, "Claire, look I fuck up just about everything I touch so.."

"No, Sylar, no. It was an illuminating conversation. It helped me understand some things, put other things in perspective. There was a lot I wasn't aware of."

Sylar nodded, "He told you about taking my ability then?"

"He did." She took Sylar's hand, "If I had any doubts before about your ability and how it affects you, I don't have those doubts anymore." She pulled him over to the campfire and they sat down together. "What the company did when you manifested was criminal. They played a part in where this all ended up. You needed help and instead they.."

"Helped create a monster?"

Claire nodded. "You know I won't condone your actions, no matter what your reasons. But I know you're not in complete control of your.. impulses. But if you didn't really want to change it wouldn't matter what anyone did to try and help."

"If you ask your father he'll be the first one to tell you that I don't. That it's all some grand scheme to hunt specials with impunity. He'll never change that opinion no matter what I do." Sylar stated emphatically.

"I know. It doesn't matter. What matters is that you're making progress."

"So you don't think this is all a ploy?"

Claire studied his face, "Maybe it started out that way but I believe your feelings for me are real." She smiled lightly, "Even if you won't admit to them."

Sylar gave her a look. "I know what I feel. I just don't know why I have to put it into words. You already know what you mean to me."

"Might be nice if you said it."

Sylar looked decidedly uncomfortable. "I.."

Claire put up her hands, "Sorry, no expectations. You'll tell what you need to.. when you're ready. You know I care about you and that I want this to work. I hope I've proven to you that you can trust me. That what I feel for you is real... and strong."

"I hope I can live up to those feelings, Claire."

"You are," she leaned over and kissed him then smiled. "So are we having wine or beer?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Oh wow, I think I may pop."

Sylar eyed her then leaned over and poked her in the stomach.

"Hey!"

"Just checking," he offered with a chuckle.

"Very funny." She jumped on him and they rolled over in the autumn leaves. Claire pushed him back and straddled his hips. "In the spirit of sharing, I think I should know if you're ticklish or not." She raised her hands up and wiggled her fingers.

"You wouldn't dare," Sylar rumbled at her.

Claire's eyebrows shot up, "I wouldn't? Oh, I think I would, Mister Gray."

"You're wasting your time, I'm not ticklish." Sylar ran his hands over her thighs.

"Uh huh, well I think perhaps we should put that statement to the test."

"Claire," Sylar warned.

She pounced on him, digging fingers into his sides. He wiggled despite his denials and grabbed at her hands. "Stop," he laughed.

"Nu uh," she giggled.

In an instant, Claire found herself flipped over on her back with Sylar lying over her.

"No fair!"

"What fair?" I didn't use abilities. I'm well within my rights in a tickle fight to use my strength." He nuzzled against her. "Although, I can think of better things to do than tickle you. Or maybe I should tickle you in all the right places, whadda you say?"

Claire felt a tingling sensation between her legs. "That's definitely no fair! No abilities when we're intimate, you agreed."

"Oh, but the things I could do to you, Claire." Sylar rasped.

Claire stilled beneath him, her expression set. Sylar sighed and rolled away from her, leaning his head back against a fallen log.

Claire pushed up and came to sit next to him. "Don't you mean the things you already do to me? You don't need any super-charged abilities in that department."

"Flatterer," he grinned.

She smiled back. "Oh, look." Claire reached out and plucked a single wild daisy that had bloomed late in the season. "It's beautiful," she announced.

Sylar brushed his fingers along her arm. He shrugged, "I don't really get the whole flower thing." Then he seemed to think better of it, "Here, let me see it."

Claire looked up at him curiously and handed him the small daisy. He pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket and used the blade to shear off the stem flush with the flower.

"What are you doing?" Claire was watching intently.

"Just wait." Then he used the point of the corkscrew to make a tiny hole in one of the petals. Sylar lay the flower on the palm of his open hand where Claire could see it. He grinned as the flower turned to gold.

"Oh!" she breathed. A smile lit her face.

"Now you can keep its beauty forever." Claire was silent. She stared at the golden flower with an unreadable expression. Sylar looked at her askew, "You don't like it? I mean, I thought maybe you could put it on a chain or something..."

"I love it!" she reassured him. "It's really thoughtful and sweet. You... you've never given me anything like this before, that's all. It's nice."

Sylar studied her, "I like this. It's simple. It feels good."

She laughed lightly, "Simple? We'll never be simple. But we are good together aren't we."

He turned away from her.

"Is something wrong?" her voice grew concerned.

"No, nothing's wrong. Nothing at all. Just.."

"Just?" Claire took him by the arm and turned him back towards her. "Just?"

"Be careful," he said softly.

Her brow furrowed. "I don't understand."

Sylar pulled her into his arms. "Never mind, don't worry about it. It's nothing." He stroked her silken hair lightly. This would all work out. Claire believed in him, she believed in them. He would have everything he ever wanted.


	7. Part 7

Angela Petrelli, PrimaTech Facility

The phone rang, its insistent buzz not helping her growing headache at all. "Yes."

"You should know that Bennet and Suresh are in Vermont," an official voice intoned.

Angela pinched the bridge of her nose. "Of course, they are. Noah doesn't know when to quit... he's going to get us all killed. Thank you for informing me."

"Instructions?"

She paused. She couldn't worry about Noah and his Sylar fixation. She had to keep her eye on the bigger picture or they would all suffer the consequences. Noah knew what was at stake and still chose to disregard her warnings for the sake of his petty vengeance. He was a fool. "Stay out of it unless Noah pushes the issue. If he does... back Sylar.

"Understood."

"Anything else I should know about?"

"No, the subjects have stayed to themselves. Not much outside interaction."

A child's laughter tinkled like bells in her head. Maybe it was happening now, Angela considered. The child in her dreams hadn't been more than about four. If Claire became pregnant on their trip then the world had less than five years. And she had less than five years to make sure that future never came to pass. "Let me know right away if anything happens. I don't care what time it is, you find me, and let me know."

"Yes, Mam."

Angela placed the receiver down. Something was going to happen, something bad. She knew that as surely as she knew her name. The problem being, she didn't dream about everything that would happen. It didn't work that way. She was only given guideposts to follow. You always ended up in the same place but depending on the path you chose, your destination could end up looking a lot differently.

She had seen Noah's broken, bleeding body. It was easy to infer how that might happen. If Sylar killed Noah, Claire would never forgive him. If _that_ happened, there would be no happy family, no child, and no future. And without that future then Sylar would truly become an unstoppable monster.

Unless, of course, the child in question, had already been conceived.

Angela put her head in her hands. Too many possibilities, so much that could go wrong, she was playing such a dangerous game. The stress was immeasurable. She didn't know how much longer she's be able to keep it up before her mind and body just gave out. She desperately hoped it would be long enough.

Sylar and Claire, St Johnsbury, Vermont

The afternoon had skipped by pleasantly. There were no interruptions and no disagreements just two young lovers exploring each other for hours.

Claire threw the leftovers on the counter. "I repeat I am stuffed." She patted her non-existent belly.

Sylar tugged a shoe off, tossing it with casual disregard.

"I think I'll take a shower."

Sylar smirked, "Need any help?"

Claire looked at him incredulously. "You can't possibly still be.."

"Horny? Big appetites, remember."

She shook her head and chuckled, "I won't walk straight for a week as it is. How about TV instead?"

Sylar shrugged and the TV turned itself on. The channels began changing until a football game came up.

Claire looked at the screen. "You know, I think if you don't mind, I'll take a long hot bath. You can watch your game."

Sylar raised a brow, "You sure?"

"Yep," she grinned, "Have fun."

Sylar waited until the bathroom door closed and he could hear the water running before putting his shoes back on. He was glad that Claire hadn't taken him up on his offer. He didn't think he'd be getting anything up for awhile. He was exhausted. But this was a perfect opportunity, he couldn't waste it.

He honed in his hearing and waited until Claire was well settled into her bath before heading out to the shed in back of the house. The structure was small but well constructed and would be the perfect place to practice for an hour or so while Claire soaked. He slipped out the backdoor and adjusted his eyes to "night vision". The landscape lit up into sharp relief. A few small animals hovered around the parameter but no nosy father-in-laws or ex-whatevers on the prowl. Angela's babysitters would be parked in their customary position a tenth of a mile down the road watching the front of the house. They wouldn't be able to see or hear anything from their vantage point. Perfect.

The darkness wrapped itself around him like a comfortable cloak. He felt the energies inside him waking up, reaching out... becoming. But what was he becoming? Sylar entered the shed and drew the bolt across the door. He looked around at the windowless structure. His choices were limited but he could at least flex his muscles a bit. He was already so amped up that his fingers were sparking lightly. He needed calm.

Standing in the middle of the space, he started relaxing his body bit by bit. He rolled his head and shook out his arms... then closed his eyes. When he opened them they were glowing softly. Organic equations played out behind his eyes, cells morphing, energies building. He had only to guide it, make it into what he wanted it to be. This wasn't an ability that he had learned through absorption. There was no template to follow. No, this was his own creation. This was something that had never existed before. He had reached into his own DNA and altered pathways, bringing himself into alignment with the world that existed behind the world.

Logically, he knew, it wasn't supernatural. He wasn't touching upon heaven or hell though he sometimes very much felt that way. No, the fact was that human beings had limited ways of perceiving the universe. There was so much more to existence than just what the five senses could discern. Not even man's best inventions had yet to touch upon the layers he had discovered with his ability. These things existed all around everyone, all the time, but unless you were "special" you couldn't even begin to fathom them. He couldn't explain it even he if tried. There just weren't any words that could describe the sheer magnitude of creation.

Bennet and the rest, with their small minds and insignificant lives could never hope to understand. They were being replaced by evolutional process. They could fight it all they wanted but in the end that choice had already been made. The world was changing... forever.

Sylar reached out, cupping his hands, a pinpoint of red light appeared in the dark... and grew. Like liquid fire, it poured its way into reality, gaining mass and structure as Sylar's hands caressed it countenance. The energy pulsed and stretched until it was the size of a baseball. Sylar smiled. It was quite simply, beautiful. A miniature sun held in the palm of his hands. He wasn't actually generating the energy, only directing it, using his cells to harness and refine what was needed from a quantum level. The amount of expendable energy he was using from his own power structure was negligible. He could maintain the sphere almost indefinitely.

His eyes pulsed from within and the sphere enlarged until it was the size of a basketball. The urge to turn it loose and see the damage it could cause was teasing at him. It would be so easy. Once released the energy would expand outward in all directions engulfing anything in its path. Sylar inherently knew that a sphere of this size was capable of serious damage before it dissipated. Anything caught within its influence would be disintegrated. He smiled, level five would never hold him again.

Sylar lowered his hands and the bobbing orb faded away. Looking at his watch, he figured he could risk another half an hour before he needed to get back inside. He reached out with this heightened senses to confirm that Claire was still in the bath. Satisfied, he began again.

Bubbles floated around her in a sweet aroma of vanilla. Claire's eyes drifted closed. This was heaven. All things considered, this trip was turning out to be wonderful. What a perfect day it had been. After lunch and love-making, they had actually talked a bit and Sylar had shared some of past with her. He had talked about how ordinary everything had been until the eclipse and how he hated the banality of it all. Monster or not, at least he now had purpose. It was a telling, if not, tragic, declaration.

He also asked her if she could go back to the way she was before... would she? That was a difficult question. For all the bad things that had happened, there was so much wonder and beauty in these gifts. She had long since stopped whining about being the indestructible girl and come to see it for what it really was, a choice. She could choose to see it as a curse or she could use it to do some good. She chose the latter and here she was, a little more than a year later, married to the most notorious "special" walking the face of the earth.

She marveled at what Sylar might accomplish if only he could tame his urges and use his abilities to help rather than harm. She sighed and rubbed at her arms with a bath sponge. He was completely self-absorbed, not seeing the forest for the trees. She drew her leg up and slid the sponge along her thigh. There was a light ache between her legs. Claire smiled, it was a good ache.

There was a time when she no longer felt anything at all, when she didn't even feel human anymore. While she had hated Sylar for his attack on her, she hated him far worse for taking away her pain. It was torture.

Then suddenly, everything changed again. Angela came up with a crazy scheme to bring Sylar into the company fold and put an end to his evil. No one ever thought it would work, not in a million years, but Sylar had stunned them all by accepting Angela's offer of help. Her father, of course, had gone into deep suspicion mode and would never accept that Sylar could have any other motivation other than his need to absorb abilities.

Claire blew on the sponge sending blue bubbles floating through the air. She still wondered what the details of that "deal" had involved. Both Angela and Sylar claimed that there were no secret terms but she wasn't naïve, contrary to what her dad might think. Angela had paid Sylar in blood to secure his co-operation. But she had to hand it to Angela, she knew what she was doing. Once Sylar was willing to work with her, Angela started working on him. Nothing too forceful, just small changes over time meant to create connections between Sylar and others. Changes meant to remind him of his humanity.

That had been the first break-through between them, when she had finally made him understand what he had really done to her. Not just the physical violence but the emotional damage that had left her crawling under her bed, nights when the memories burned too bright.

It was almost like a lightbulb went off over Sylar's head. It would have been comical if not for the horror of the situation. For that one crystal moment the man who had been Gabriel Gray touched his humanity. He had made the connection, he empathized. Then with the same power he so brutally used to absorb her ability, had reached out to her and "fixed" the damage he had caused. That had been the turning point... for both of them. She stopped seeing Sylar as an inhuman monster and instead saw a deeply flawed man that had been overwhelmed by circumstance. And here they were...

Sylar closed the shed door and took a deep breath. The cool autumn air smelled faintly of earth and leafs. He'd always been a city boy but he understood the attraction of this calm, sedate life. It was nice, though, he wondered how long it would take all the serenity to drive him out of his mind. He grinned to himself and turned.

"Out for a stroll?" a smug voice questioned from the dark. "You must really have had your mind elsewhere to let me get this close." Noah stepped from under the overhang at the side of the small structure and smiled, "What's in the shed?"

Sylar scowled. Damn it. How could he have been so stupid? He'd been so focused on practicing his self generating abilities and keeping track of Claire that he'd failed to monitor the parameter. Bennet had slithered in like the snake he was. Still, if Noah had seen or heard anything it was unlikely that he'd be hanging around, asking questions. No, he would have called in the cavalry. "What are you doing here?"

"I think, I just asked you the same thing."

"I'm supposed to be here. You're not." Sylar reached out with his enhanced senses but there wasn't anyone else, Bennet was alone, but likely, not unprotected. Sylar observed the way Bennet's hands were jammed into his coat pockets. He always carried at least one gun.

"Well, I thought since you were nice enough to stop by and say hello to Mohinder I could at least return the favor."

If Bennet thought he could be played that easily, he was sadly mistaken. "Isn't that nice, why don't you come in and say hello to Claire? I'm sure she'd love to know that you're here." Sylar quipped, always go for the heart, it made ripping off the head so much easier.

Noah looked over his shoulder at the shed. He took a couple of steps forward and Sylar tensed. "You didn't answer me. What's in there?"

Sylar smiled nastily, "Garden tools, mostly."

"New hobby?"

Sylar shrugged, "I have many interests... as you well know." Claire wouldn't be in the bath much longer. He had to get rid of Noah or start explaining things he'd rather not. "If you're done making whatever point it is you're trying to make, just leave." Sylar turned his back on the agent. What was the worst that could happen?

"I thought I was invited in for coffee and company." Bennet offered.

Sylar turned, "You really want to push this?"

"The question is... do you? What's in the shed?"

"For the love of.. why don't you just go in there and see for yourself." Sylar crossed his arms over his chest. It was all he could do not to crush the life out of the bastard.

Bennet smiled, "Thanks for the invitation, after you..." he motioned.

Sylar rolled his eyes, and the shed door flew open with a crack. Bennet jumped imperceptibly but he noticed anyway and smirked. He strode forward, flicking the light switch as he passed, then stood in the middle of the room. Looking around casually, he commented, "Is it all you hoped it would be?"

Noah scanned the room for anything incriminating but except for a few garden implements the shed was empty. His eyes narrowed, then what was Sylar doing out here? He turned to the killer, "It's definitely, you." Noah took a deep breath... and noticed something odd, the air in the shed smelled fresh and clean. With the layer of dust over everything, it should be musty and dank. What was it that they called it after a thunderstorm... ozone. Sylar had been up to something out here, that much was clear, but since there were no dead bodies in evidence, there was little he could do about it. Claire would not pleased to find that he had been skulking around their get-away cottage like a stalker.

Noah turned, "You're not nearly as clever as you think you are... Gabriel."

Sylar's eyes narrowed. "You should leave.. now."

"You think I don't know? It's not like I would forget that little show you put on back in New York. You've got yourself a new power," Noah smirked. "Not surprising I suppose except there seems to be some question as to where it came from."

"I don't supposed you'd care to comment?"

"I told Angela exactly where it came from, Noah. You seem to have a hard time remembering that I don't answer to you."

This wouldn't gain him anything. Noah came to a decision. "You don't really answer to anyone now do you. It's all just a game as far as you're concerned. But it's a game I intend to win." Noah pulled his hands from his pockets and turned his back to Sylar. "You have a good evening now. I'm sure I'll see you again soon." And with that he walked out without a backwards glance.


	8. Chapter 8

Have I mentioned how much I appreciate all the people that took a minute to review? Well, I do. Thank you.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sylar sat in the living room pretending to watch the game and fuming. He'd had about all he could take of Noah Bennet and his constant meddling. It was so damn frustrating. It would be so easy, barely a nod and his neck would splinter, a snap of his fingers and Noah would vibrate apart. Sylar smiled grimly as his mind filled with darkly violent images. He could vocally generate a low frequency sound that could melt the man's brain into mush. Or shove one of his new energy spheres down the bastard's throat and watch him disintegrate.

"Oh, he's smiling. Should I be pleased or worried?" Claire flounced over, her skin still damp and her hair in pile on her head. "Its official, I'm a prune." She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Sylar schooled his features. "My prune." He buried his face in her neck and inhaled. "Mmm, you smell good." He was still pissed and barely holding it together. The last thing he really wanted at the moment was this simple affection. No, he wanted a spot of the old ultra-violence. He wanted to hurt Bennet, make him suffer, but the only way he could do that was if he hurt Claire... just a bit. He came to a decision.

"Claire," he gently pushed her back then looked away, his whole posture rigid and tense.

She frowned, "What is it?" She noticed a dangerous vibration in the air. Something was wrong, something that had touched Sylar's inner monster and made it rear its head.

"I've been sitting here trying to figure out how to do the right thing. I don't have a whole lot of experience with that you know." He gave her his best rueful smile, "But you said that we need to be honest above all else."

"Yes. We should be able to tell each other anything. Whatever you need to say," she agreed though at this point she was more than a little scared at what this might entail.

Sylar sighed, "I wasn't going to say anything... I thought I could handle it. Just brush it off... but I don't think I can." He scowled, "I don't want to ruin this vacation for you."

"Obviously, you think it was important enough to bring it up now so you should tell me now," Claire coaxed.

"All right." Sylar stood and paced over to the window and back, "Your father followed us here, Claire. He's been lurking in the shadows. At least until a few minutes ago when he decided to confront me."

"My father is what!"

Sylar nodded hesitantly. If Bennet wanted to play, he'd play. He just wished there was way to keep Claire out of it. "Like I said I was just going to ignore it. Chalk it up to his obsessive paranoia but when he actually confronted me and started in with all his shit... I don't have the patience of a saint, Claire. I mean how much am I expected to put up with? I figured it was better to tell you than hurt him."

Claire face hardened. "This is completely uncalled for, to stalk us on our vacation and then start in with all the same old garbage. I can't believe it." She looked absolutely furious, "You should have told me sooner."

"Why? So I could screw up our one chance to get away from everything?" He needed to be careful now to keep her anger focused in the direction he wanted it to go. "I shouldn't have said anything," he lamented. "I screwed up right on schedule."

"No, Sylar. You were right to tell me." She leaned into him, "I'm not pissed at you. In fact, I'm glad you were honest with me."

Inwardly, he sighed in relief. Now he just needed to be supportive of her decision. The decision he hoped she would make. He stroked her hair lightly, "I did the right thing for a change? You sure?"

"Yeah, you did." She looked into his eyes with a sad smile. "And now I'm going to do the right thing." She was resolute.. "Excuse me, I need to make a call," she stated tersely and turned away.

He couldn't help but think she looked cute as she stormed off to confront her father. She was going to tear daddy dearest a new one and he'd actually made points by being honest. Who knew? This was turning out to be a better vacation than he could have imagined. Claire and he had gotten closer while Bennet was losing ground. With any luck, he'd be able to get Bennet transferred out of the New York office for this little stunt and well away from discovering anything about his latest evolution. Claire would be sad for awhile but he would be solicitous and offer her whatever support she needed. Perfect. Sylar sauntered off towards the bedroom. There was no way he was going to miss this.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Noah scoured the company files for the third time trying to find anything on the energy spheres that Sylar had used. There was nothing. He'd even checked all the rag mags looking for any "paranormal" orbs that fit the description. He drew a blank. He sighed in frustration. Angela was right, there was no way to tell where or when Sylar had absorbed that ability. It could have been yesterday or three years ago.

As much as the company had learned about the specials and their abilities it was a drop in the bucket to the reality of the situation. Every time there was an eclipse the scientists experimented and ran projections but in the end it was all hypotheses. There might be hundreds of specials out there in the population or there might be thousands... perhaps more every time there was a new eclipse. The task of bagging and tagging all of them was daunting but it needed to be done. Sylar was living proof of the necessity of his convictions. None of them could be trusted, not really. The irony of that conviction never seemed to register.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and Noah closed his laptop. Late calls usually meant a problem, a problem he was usually asked to fix. To his surprise the incoming call was from Claire. He didn't know rather to be elated or terrified. He flipped open his phone, "Claire? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine Dad, How are you?" came the icy response.

Claire was angry, that much was clear. "I'm good. What's wrong, Claire?"

"Where are you, Dad?"

Noah cringed. Son of a bitch. The bastard had ratted him out. In a way he'd been expecting it. He'd thought he could shake the killer up by paying him a visit. Let him know he was onto him and that he wasn't impressed with his threats against Mohinder. But whatever was going on with Sylar, he seemed pretty confident that he would get away with it.. "Baby listen, I can explain."

"Explain? No, Dad. You really don't need to explain. I already know everything I need to know."

Sylar had already fed her his side of the story, that much was clear. He was now at a disadvantage, anything he said would seem to be justification.. "Believe me when I say you don't, sweetheart. You really don't. I'm just trying to look out for you."

"Let me guess. Sylar is up to something nefarious and you just had to be there to thwart his diabolical plan. Despite the fact that we already have an escort. Despite the fact that this was a chance for your daughter to relax and get away from all the in-fighting for a couple of weeks."

"I'm all-for you getting away Claire but you took all your troubles with you. His name is Sylar."

"Wrong thing to say, Dad." Her voice was now shaking, "I can't take any more of this. Somewhere along the line your concern has turned toxic and it's not healthy for anyone. It has to stop."

"You know I love you. I'm just trying to keep you safe. That's all I'm trying to do."

"No, it's not and you know it. I'm done. I can't live my life like this anymore. I asked you to leave me alone. And since you won't respect my wishes I'm going to ask Angela to intervene."

"What?" Noah had a sinking feeling that he had finally crossed a line that he couldn't come back from. "I know you're angry but we can talk about this. I could meet you."

"You're not listening to me! I don't want to see you or hear from you. I have my own life and I want to live it. You can't or won't respect my decisions so you leave me no choice. I mean it. This is finished. Stay away from me... and my husband."

"Claire please, let me explain. I know you think I've lost it but I'm telling you there's something going on with Sylar, something really bad. I'm trying to protect everybody." The line went dead. "Claire?"

Noah was left staring at his phone.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Claire put her head down and let the tears come. He'd left her no choice she had to break ties for good. This was the life she chose and now she was convinced that she could be happy with it. There was a lot of work ahead for them but she wanted her marriage to work. And keeping Sylar all riled up on top of everything else he had to deal with was not conducive to anyone's safety.

"Claire?" Sylar edged into the room. Of course he'd been listening to every word. It was all he could do not to jump up and high five but that would hardly serve him when he was so close to getting everything he had ever wanted. He'd paid for his arrogance more than once. "Listen, you know there's no love lost between your dad and me but I hope you know that I never wanted to see you hurt. And I'll do whatever you need me to do right now."

Claire looked up with her tear streaked face, the weight of the world in her eyes. "If you don't mind I think I'd just like us to head home. I need to take care of this… now. This time we've had together here has convinced me that you and I can make this into a real marriage. My father will never understand that and he'll never stop trying to undermine what we build. You and I are challenge enough. I can't deal with my dad's issues too. I shouldn't have to, I'm done."

Sylar walked over and sat on the bed next to his wife. "I really didn't instigate it this time."

"I know," she sniffled.

He folded his arms around her. She was so… pure. She was the only thing that he had, that he hadn't destroyed. That he couldn't destroy. He wanted to protect her but Sylar briefly wondered who would protect her from him now that her old man was soon to be out of the picture. He leaned in close and kissed her lightly, whispering, "I love you, Claire."

She took a deep gasping breath and wept.

Sylar caressed her softly as she cried herself out. May god help them both, he thought.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sylar and Claire

Going Home

"Would you mind if I drive for awhile? It's too easy to dwell when you're watching the landscape go by."

Sylar glanced over. Claire was still hurting and probably would be for some time. He'd played the Noah card to perfection, just the right amount of honesty added to his obvious anger. She'd reacted just as he'd hoped but somehow his brutal satisfaction at a job well done diminished each time he looked into her eyes. "No problem. Just slide over."

Claire eyed him. "You don't want to find a place to pull over?"

"What for? Not another rest stop for a hundred miles it said back there. This is quicker and easier."

"You sure?" she didn't sound convinced it was a good idea.

He scoffed, "Remember who you're talking to," and took his hands from the wheel. It never wavered from its course. The car proceeded down the road as if it had autopilot. Sylar gestured for her to slide over his lap. As she passed over him, he kissed the back of her neck and she hummed lightly in approval. Sylar slid into the passenger seat and leaned against the door.

Claire grasped the wheel and it relented to her grip. She reached over and turned the radio on low, "This won't bother you will it?"

He shook his head and yawned. "I think I'll take a nap. You ok?"

She reached out for him and he took her hand, bringing it to his lips he brushed his lips along her skin. Claire smiled, "I'm ok." Despite her father's latest attempt at sabotaging their relationship, something good had come out of their trip. There were no more doubts in her mind about her future with Sylar. Now she knew he wanted this as much as she did. He had reached out and trusted her with his feelings. That was a monumental step for both of them. They would make this work even if it meant she had to see to it that her father was removed from his position at Primatech. She knew she was doing the right thing.

Sylar shifted in his seat and lay his head against the glass on the passenger door. He had a little over a month left before he qualified to go back for bag and tag duty. Plenty of time to settle in, play house at the apartment, and still have time for experimentation. Bennet wouldn't dare encroach on their privacy now. Not with his whole relationship with his daughter about to disintegrate. Then again…

He glanced over at Claire and then to the side mirror. Using his telekinesis, he adjusted the view to the lane directly behind them. He blinked tightly once, then twice, and his eyes filled with Luciferin, the same chemical that allowed cats to see in the dark. His eyes cast a high reflective shine. Concentrating, he stared into the mirror and his vision increased twofold, tenfold, until he could, quite clearly, focus in on the vehicle traveling some two miles behind them. He zeroed in on the driver. His expression darkened.

Noah and Mohinder

Going Home

Noah's fingers were wrapped white knuckled around the wheel. The situation had gone from bad to worse. Not only had he been unable to uncover anything about Sylar's plans but he had succeeded in completely alienating his daughter yet again. And this time he wasn't so sure he she would forgive him. He'd shot his own daughter just to get to Sylar. Her body might heal but that didn't mean her heart would. This "vacation" had been about putting the pieces back together again and he hadn't respected that, not when Sylar was involved. He'd screwed up big time.

"I tried to warn you it wouldn't turn out well." Mohinder stared straight ahead. "He's the devil."

Noah nodded, "Yeah well, I skipped to the end of the book. Satan loses." He wished he felt as confident as he sounded. The idea of losing his last tie to his family was eating him up inside. He'd already lost Sandra and Lyle. His job was all he had left and it was hollow comfort. Noah glanced over to where Mohinder sat staring out the window. "You understand why I can't let this go."

"What I know is I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting and I'm tired of hating. I'm not even sure anymore who I hate more. Sylar or myself. I question how I am honoring my father's memory with the things that I've done in the name of retribution. Maybe this isn't the way. Maybe Angela is right."

"You're not serious!" Noah was aghast.

"Hate is a disease more insidious than any cancer. It eats you up inside until there's nothing left. You're nothing but a hollow shell filled with sickness. The only cure is to surrender that hate. Let it go, Noah. It's the only way you'll survive. It's the only way to find your way back to your family. Let Sylar go."

"You think that Sylar will just "let it go"? I don't care what Angela or Peter or anyone else says about what Sylar was/is in the future, Once a monster always a monster."

Mohinder cringed slightly. "I'm sorry, Noah, I'm sorry _for _you. I have my own amends to make now. I do no service to my father with this crusade. It has to stop. In his own twisted way Sylar offered me the right way out. He said to just walk away and that's what I'm going to do. Maybe I can go back to helping specials like I had originally intended. Try to cleanse my own soul of its darkness."

"Sylar will never let any of the people he blames walk away. As long as he's free to do as he pleases we're all in danger."

Noah felt the small tremor in the wheel right before the front passenger tire blew out with a loud report. The wheel was jerked from his hands as the car veered to the right. The undercarriage hit pavement and set off sparks like fireworks along the road. When the axle bent the car was upended and thrown end over end. Rolling over and over, it came to rest next to a sign on the side of the road that read, *_Road Curves_ _Use Caution When Following Closely Behind*._

Sylar closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Angela Petrelli

Hartsdale, New York

She was back again, only this time the streets of New York weren't empty and devoid of life, if you could call it life. Angela stifled a scream as it rose up in her throat. All around her people were melting. Literally, flesh falling from bone. They wailed in torment begging for help, clawing at their own eyes as they oozed from their skulls. There was nothing she could do.

Beyond the sounds of suffering Angela heard a child's laugh, the tinkling of bells. Looking up the street she saw Sylar and Claire walking away. Noah was between them laughing delightedly when they would pull him up by the arms and swing him between them. Claire was looking at Sylar with obvious affection and love.

"Claire!" she called out. When there was no response she ran towards them but no matter how fast she ran they never got any closer. "Sylar wait!" They were completely oblivious to the carnage that spread out around them. "Wait please! I have to talk to you. You need to tell me what I should do. Tell me how to stop it! Please!"

"Hello Nana," a sweet little voice chimed from right behind her. Angela whirled around.

"Noah?" Angela breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh sweetheart, can you help Nana?"

The little boy nodded, his wide eyes wise beyond his years.

"Do you know what happened? Do you know why everyone…" she swallowed hard. "Do you know why the world is dying?"

The child looked so sad when he answered, "I love my daddy very much. And he loves me."

"Yes, sweetheart. I know that." If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Sylar loved his son or would love his son when the time came. It was in her dreams and it had been in the future Peter visited. Sylar had fought his hunger and won for the sake of his child. And by the looks of things his feelings hadn't changed for Claire either. He clearly loved her as well. So where did it all go wrong?

"Then why won't you help him? He doesn't want to live in the darkness anymore. He wants to be good," Noah pouted, fat tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

"I'm trying. But I don't know how to help him unless you show me more. Can you show me?" The sound of squealing tires distracted Angela and the boy started to fade.

"You won't help him," the boy sobbed. His cries becoming fainter with each gasping breath, "You won't… save.. him."

"Yes! Yes, I will. Please don't go!" Angela reached for him but he was smoke in her grasp. "I will save him! I will, god damn it!"

A silver SUV rolled over and over coming to rest in front of her. What the hell was this? This hadn't been in any of the previous versions of her future dream. No, this was something else. She could feel it. It was something that was happening now or very soon. She walked over to the vehicle. There were two people lying on the road, neither was moving. Approaching the nearest body she recognized Mohinder Suresh which meant that the other was... Angela walked over to where Noah Bennet lay bent and broken on the pavement. How did he figure into this future? Was he the reason that Sylar wouldn't or couldn't reform? If that was the real reason behind all the pain and destruction she dreamed then if Noah died in an accident all their problems might already be solved. The future would right itself.

Angela frowned. If the accident was happening when Mohinder and Noah were together then it was likely in Vermont. And if that was the case, she speculated, how probable was it that it wasn't an accident at all but an attempt by Sylar to even the score. If Noah died by Sylar's hands Claire would never forgive him and the future again would fall into chaos. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, She could stand by and do nothing, the event would play out in its own natural progression. Or she could weigh the odds and act based on her knowledge of what was the more likely scenario. She contemplated the mile marker sign twisted under the front wheel.

Angela woke and grabbing her cell phone, dialed 911.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Claire pulled into the rest stop about two hours later. "Hey, wake up." She poked Sylar in the side. "You're drooling on the window."

Sylar pulled himself upright, "I am not," he protested but unconsciously wiped at his mouth.

Claire laughed lightly, "Come on sleepyhead." She tugged Sylar from the car and folded herself into his arms. "You want to push through?"

"You're the one that wanted to get back as soon as we can. I'm just along for the ride."

"I'm sorry. I really did want the whole two weeks with you but this is something I need to do." She was feeling guilty now and not just for cutting their trip short but for not telling Sylar that she loved him too. The big moment came and she chickened out.

"You don't have to explain anything, Claire." He yawned, "Just give me a minute to wake up then we'll head out."

Oh boy, did she ever! She needed to explain how she loved him and how that terrified the hell out of her for so many reasons. "You know there's something I should have told you back at the cottage…" Claire's phone chimed and she reluctantly pulled herself free of her husband's arms.

Sylar tugged her back. "You sure you want to answer that?"

"No, but I better." She flipped open the phone. "Hello?"

Sylar leaned back against the SUV. Maybe he could convince Claire that the best way to wake him up and put him in a good mood was to have sex in the backseat before they got back on the road. Not that he already wasn't in a good mood but hey any excuse to get his beautiful wife naked worked for him.

"Angela. What? What's happened?" There was a pause. "Oh my god. Is he hurt, what happened.. just.."

Sylar came up next to Claire. His eyes questioned but he kept quiet.

"Ok, ok, where. Yes. Yes, we'll be right there." Claire's eyes filled with tears. She closed her phone.

"What happened?" Sylar questioned.

"It's my dad. There was an accident," she intoned.

"And?" there was an odd expectation to his question but Claire was far too distracted to notice.

"He's in the hospital."

Sylar paused, his expression unreadable, "Get in, I'll drive."

Claire threw her arms around him. "I know this doesn't change anything but he's my father and I'll always love him. I couldn't bear it if.."

"I know. I get it. I'll take you, come on." Sylar slid himself into the driver's seat. "Which hospital?"

"Saint Matthew's in Emerson."

"I saw a sign for Emerson in ten miles." Sylar pulled the vehicle back onto the highway. "Did they say what his condition was?"

She shook her head.

"Everything will be ok, Claire. I'll take care of you."

Claire slid over close to Sylar entwining her arm through his, "Thank you."


	9. Part 9

UGHHH, I knew it! I was trying to be such a good little writer and get another chapter up quickly that I didn't beta properly. I missed an entire paragraph when I uploaded and then when I re-read it, found areas I didn't like. I've added the missing paragraph as well as added dialog between Claire and Sylar. My apologies for the re-post.

Claire and Sylar

Saint Matthew's Hospital

"Your father and his friend were very lucky. The call came in almost immediately after the accident. We were able to get them here right away. It could have been very serious. They're pretty banged up."

Claire grasped Sylar's hand tightly. "But my father, he's going to be ok? Uh, both of them I mean."

"They both need to be here a few days for observation. Your father especially. He has a concussion as well as some severe bruising. We need to watch for swelling and blood clots but nothing that I'm overly concerned about. They're both doing very well considering they were in a roll-over. I'm not anticipating any complications and if they continue to improve should be out of here before you know it."

"Oh, thank you so much," Claire gushed. She looked to her husband for affirmation. "He's going to be ok. Everything's going to be ok," she smiled into his chest.

Sylar rubbed her back lightly. "Yes, it is. Everything will be just fine."

She turned to the doctor, "Can I see him?"

"He's pretty out of it right now. I don't think he would know you're there but if you want to poke your head in and see for yourself he's alright then I think it would be fine. Come with me."

"Sy…" she wasn't thinking and caught herself just in time, "Gabriel?"

"You go ahead. I'd just be in the way right now. Go and see your father and I'll be waiting for you when you're done."

She kissed him softly on the lips and followed the doctor down the hall.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Noah and Claire

Saint Matthew's

There wasn't one part of his body that didn't hurt. His head hurt, his neck hurt, his back hurt. He drifted off and started awake only to begin the litany all over again. Head, neck, back, and that incessant beeping was going to drive him crazy.

Something was wrong. Why couldn't he focus? Where was he? What was the last thing he remembered? He had been driving. Yes, that was it. He'd been driving and something happened. He and Mohinder had been talking. What had they been talking about? Sylar. It came rushing back in a flood of disjointed and hazy memories. He and Mohinder had been returning from their excursion to Vermont when the tire blew out. The tire blew out. Noah struggled to a sitting position but a hand pressed him back to the bed.

"Stay still. You shouldn't be moving around."

He knew that voice. "Claire?" Noah opened his eyes.

"Yeah, Dad it's me. Try and relax you're in the hospital. You're going to be ok." Claire fussed at the sheet, making sure it was tucked in along the sides.

"There was… the tire. Mohinder? Is he ok?"

"He's going to be fine too. Please try and just lay back. The doctor says you have a concussion, you need to take it easy."

"I'm glad you're here, Clairebear. I've missed you so much." He might hurt all over but the ache that had surrounded his heart for the last year was finally gone. It made all the pain worth it.

Claire looked away, "I know you have."

"Thank you."

"For what?" She looked back at him sadly. So much damage between them now but there was nothing she could say that would make any difference. Her father's obsession was just as strong as Sylar's.

"For being here," he answered simply.

She nodded, "I let mom and Lyle know. She's going to call you. Lyle wants to see you so they might come out."

"Claire, there's something you should know…"

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sylar and Mohinder

Saint Matthew's

Sylar strolled down the hall past the nurse's station his mind running probabilities at a rate any computer would be jealous of. He scowled in frustration. The permutations were endless. Something, a familiar sound, caught his attention and he honed in on it. "You should be good on meds for the night but if you find yourself in pain just push the call button." No, that wasn't it.

"Thank you, nurse," a smooth accented voice replied.

Oh that was most certainly… it. About twenty feet down the hall on the right, a nurse exited one of the rooms. Sylar waited until she rounded the corner and was out of sight before he headed over.

-=-o-=-o-=-o-=-

"Well, I have to say I've seen you looking better," Sylar began.

Mohinder's eyes shot open and he bolted up.

"Then again, I've seen you looking worse," he finished with a grin.

"You have some nerve coming in here." Mohinder looked around the room for anything that could be used as a weapon. Not that it would do much good. He'd have to surprise the killer for his strength to be of any use. Besides Sylar wouldn't try anything here… would he?

"You think so? We may not be friends but we do have a history. We shared so much. How could I not check on your welfare?"

"You make me sick. We shared nothing but your evil machinations," Mohinder spat.

"Evil machinations? Seriously?" Sylar snorted. "Yeah, you can forget the whole holier than thou attitude. You might have held the moral high ground once upon a time, but not anymore. You gave up that right same as I did."

Mohinder swallowed hard. He looked to the call button. It wouldn't help and would only serve to put another innocent within Sylar's grasp. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh yes, you do," Sylar wagged his finger at him.

"Shut up!" he couldn't deal with the prattling villain right now. He just couldn't.

That just made Sylar's grin bigger. "Strike a nerve did I? Don't like it when someone hands you a mirror? All your sermonizing and the first chance you got to take an ability what did you do? Hm?" Sylar stepped closer, "How did it feel? Was it everything you thought it would be?"

"Shut up! You don't know what it was like! You weren't there!"

"Really? I… don't know what it was like." Sylar threw his head back and laughed. "I can't believe you just said that to me. I know exactly what it was like." Sylar expression darkened and his eyes dilated black, "You're just like me now, Mohinder and you know it. You're a monster... just like me. That's what all this has been about. You're trying to absolve your own guilt. Take it from me, you can't. Like you're so fond of telling me, we have to live with what we've done for the rest of our lives."

Mohinder seemed to fold in on himself. His expression tortured. "I do live with it. Every day, every hour."

"And yet you judge me for my sins," Sylar sneered. "Let he who is without sin…"

"You murdered my father!" Mohinder pulled himself up. Every muscle in his body aching and his head swimming.

Time to drive the point home Sylar noted with satisfaction, "And the people you killed, were they someone's father? Mother? Son? Daughter?"

Mohinder's eyes widened. Oh god. He couldn't do this. No. No. No. "Just leave. You've made your point. Just leave me alone!"

"I didn't start this. You're the one that came after me. You decided to play tag team with Bennet and re-join the game. Look what it got you." Sylar looked out the window. "I know you won't believe me but I really don't want to hurt you any more than I already have. What I've done to you is... one last chance, let it go, Mohinder.

"Let it go!" Mohinder practically shouted. "That's all I wanted to do and I told Noah to do the same. But he was right wasn't he? _You_ won't let it go. You tried to kill us."

Sylar sighed, "You know Mohinder accidents do happen all the time without my involvement."

"The coincidence of it, not withstanding I'm sure. Bennet was right. You're plotting something and you want him out of the way."

"Those must be some damn good drugs because you're really not thinking clearly," Sylar marveled. "Yeah, I want Bennet out of my life. Not much of a secret and there's no big plot necessary. But I hardly have to resort to murder. Bennet was done before we headed back from Vermont. He wrote his own epitaph when he wouldn't back off."

Sylar was right. Bennet had made a tactical error going to see him and the killer had used it to his advantage. Claire's opinion on the situation held a lot of sway with Angela. If she said it was necessary for Noah to go then he had no doubt that he would go. Sylar was too important to Angela's scheming. If push came to shove, Mohinder realized Angela and the company would back Sylar. That was a horrifying prospect. Noah could be in far more danger than he realized. "You might not need to kill Noah to accomplish your goals but that doesn't mean that you wouldn't. You've always had some impulse control issues now haven't you," Mohinder noted sarcastically.

"If you believe that, then one might wonder why you would take such a risk." Sylar circled the bed, "I mean here you are, vulnerable and alone with a killer. I could just snap," he offered casually.

"You're impulsive not stupid," Mohinder countered. "While you might want nothing more than to see me gone you can't do anything now and you know it. One "accident" can be a coincidence, two is proof of intent."

Sylar brushed his fingers along the edge of the bed as he passed and Mohinder jerked away. Sylar smiled. "Just so there's no misunderstandings. I really don't want to have this conversation again."

"We understand each other perfectly."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Claire and Mohinder

Saint Matthew's

"Claire."

"Mohinder," Claire came to stand next to Mohinder's bed. There were tubes and machines humming all around him. He looked almost as bad as her father. She held up the vase with colorful flowers. "Just something to cheer you up until you get out of here."

Mohinder smiled weakly, "The doctors said they'd like to keep me another few days just to make sure everything is healing properly. But I should be good as new."

"That's a relief. I'm really glad you're ok." Claire looked around awkwardly. "Dad's doing well too."

"Have you talked to your father?" Mohinder motioned to the bedside chair.

Claire sat down, "Well, more like, he talked _at_ me. He believes that Sylar did this... of course. It was all I could do, not to yell at him to just give it a rest. You know the police at the scene found a defect in the side of the tire that blew. They said it could have happened at any time."

"I see." Obviously she wasn't aware of Sylar's little visit a few minutes before, not that he had incriminated himself. He kept his threats implied. "What do you believe, Claire?"

She gathered her thoughts, "If Sylar believed he had a good reason, then he's more than capable of violence. But despite how much he might hate my father, he's still my father, and Sylar knows I still love him. I don't think he would just decide, after everything, to kill him. It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe it wasn't your father that Sylar was trying to kill."

"Why would Sylar want to hurt you, Mohinder? I know about all the bad history between you, what he did, but he's always seemed to like you... in his own twisted way. I don't think he wants to hurt you again. I believe he's remorseful about..."

"Remorseful?" Mohinder rasped loudly. "He feels bad for all the things he's done? Well, that makes it all right then doesn't it? All of his victims can breathe easier now. Oh wait, that's right, just the ones left living will breathe easier."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come." Claire stood to leave.

Mohinder stopped her. "You said you knew the history between us? You two have an open, honest relationship then?"

"We've been trying..."

"Then he told you all about our little road trip together?"

Claire put her head down, "Mohinder, I know what he did. Getting you to lead him to those people was horrific."

"I'm not talking about that bit of sickness. You know firsthand what he is, what he does. If you can live with yourself knowing that, having experienced that, then nothing I say here will make a bit of difference."

Her expression hardened slightly, "If there's something that you think I should know, then just say it."

"As much as I would like to hurt him, I don't want to hurt you, Claire. I know it's not your fault."

"What's not my fault?"

"I spent three months with "Zane". I know how he gets to you. Makes you believe... things. Makes you believe in him. But Claire, you need to listen to me. He's more dangerous than you can possibly imagine and if you stay with him you'll end up just like... me."

Ok, now she was just plain confused. "I don't understand, Mohinder."

"Ask him. I'm sure if he's being so open and honest with you he won't have a problem telling you what happened."

Yeah, that was likely to happen... not. While Sylar had been trying out honesty he tended to use it mostly when he knew it would benefit him. She might have finally come to terms that she loved him but that didn't mean she was suddenly stupid. "Why don't you just tell me?"

Mohinder stared silently up at the ceiling.

Claire stood next to the bed and took the scientist's hand in hers, "Mohinder. Like you said, I've seen the worst of Sylar, I've been his victim, and I'm still here. I know that probably makes me as twisted as he is, but I believe I'm doing the right thing for everyone. And... and I care about him." There she'd said it… almost.

Mohinder closed his eyes, obvious pain etched his dark features. "I'm too late."

"If you hate me, I understand." And she did. She didn't know what she would do if Sylar ever went after her father for real. She supposed she would hate just as deeply.

"I don't hate you," he murmured as if in a trance. "I cared about him too, once. And he broke me, shattered me like glass without a second thought. He owned me." Mohinder turned his face away from her, "And I liked it."

"You cared about him?" Where had this come from? A sudden thought occurred, "Mohinder? Were you... did you love him?"

Tears were rolling down the prone man's cheeks now, "I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know. I thought he was Zane Taylor. I would never... could never... not with the man that murdered my father!"

"Oh god," Claire intoned. So Mohinder had been in love with Sylar... and Sylar had used that to his advantage. Of course, he did. But knowing Sylar as she did, she also knew his using Mohinder didn't mean that Sylar didn't have some feelings for the scientist as well. It just meant that his biological imperative came first. "Did he feel the same way for you?"

Mohinder's eyes flew open and he choked out a harsh laugh, "He's not capable of anything remotely human. I was only deluding myself. I felt something was wrong with him but I chose to ignore it. I could feel it whenever he was near, but I didn't want to know."

_*...like some energy just below the surface clawing to get out.* _she thought. "I still don't understand why you think he would try to kill you?"

"Since when has Sylar ever needed a reason to kill beyond his own sick needs at the moment? But I suspect it's for the same reason as your father. It's because of what I know about him."

"What you know?" Claire wasn't sure that _she_ wanted to know. She took a deep breath. "If there's something more going on then I need to know. If it could be dangerous then..."

"You're married to a man that slices open people's heads, that isn't dangerous enough for you?"

Claire stiffened, "As a matter of fact, no. It isn't."

Mohinder looked away then questioned softly, "Has the company ever talked to you about Sylar's original ability?"

"Yes of course, intuitive aptitude. It's the ability to understand."

"That description doesn't really explain it. It's more than that, much more," Mohinder answered cryptically.

Claire nodded, "He doesn't like to talk about it but he's said a few things. How it drives him..." she shivered slightly. "How it's more than just a need to understand."

"His ability allows him to dissect a complex system and intuitively figure out how that system works. That's how he's able to take on other abilities. He understands how our abilities work down to a molecular level... maybe beyond. It would be truly amazing if it weren't so horrifying."

"Mohinder," Claire reached out and pressed her hand to his arm, "Angela talked to me about all of this before I made my decision to be with him. There's nothing that..."

"She left something out," he interrupted.

"What do you mean? What?" She'd known from the beginning there was more to the arrangement between Angela and Sylar than either would admit to, it wasn't like this was new news either.

"The company did projection studies on Sylar's ability."

"And?" she prompted.

"There was a ninety two percent probability that at some point Sylar would be able to not only combine his harvested abilities but create new ones and once he found a way of becoming self-generating he would be, for all intents and purposes, omnipotent."

"I think you may be overstating a bit."

Mohinder locked eyes with her. "Believe me, I am not."

"Look, this isn't anything new to me. My father has been trying to sell that theory for the last three years."

"It's not a theory. The company has known about the potential since the beginning. Why do you think they were so interested in Sylar? They could have taken him down in the beginning, but they didn't. They didn't because they wanted to study him. Can you imagine the power we're talking about?"

Claire crossed her arms over her chest.

"Claire, he can alter his DNA virtually at will. Where do you think that will lead?"

She really didn't want to hear this. Things were finally headed in the right direction. Sylar was committed to his rehabilitation. He'd proven that by allowing himself to be taken back to level five after the incident in New York. He was back on meds that helped him to calm any urges and.. and.. he loved her. If she had had any doubts about Sylar's ability to care.. to love, those doubts had been eased by their time together.

Finally she shook her head, "I'm sorry, Mohinder. I just don't buy it. Everything you've said about his abilities is common enough knowledge to the company elite. He wouldn't try to kill you over it. It wouldn't be worth it to him."

"Unless something has changed," the prone man offered.

Not this again. The idea of Sylar turning himself into a god was ludicrous. Wasn't it? "Such as?"

"You tell me. Has anything unusual happened?"

Claire gave him a look. "Is that a joke?"

"I know that must seem like a ridiculous question considering the life we all lead. Let me rephrase. Has there been anything that happened that was _more_ unusual than normal."

Claire thought about the last few months. The abilities Sylar had absorbed and the repercussions of the company allowing him to take that much energy. Finding out that he had been harboring un-cataloged powers. The constant battle between her father and him. It was all standard stuff. "No, nothing."

"Has Sylar done anything that would seem out of character?" Mohinder persisted.

What was out of character for her husband? There seemed to be very little that he wasn't capable of, including it seemed, using Mohinder not only to further his biological imperative but for a romp in the hay. "Nothing Mohinder. It's all the same old craziness that my life has been since the eclipse."

Mohinder took a deep breath, "Then maybe your father is wrong. Perhaps this was nothing more than an accident." **_A convenient accident_.**

"That's what I've been trying to tell him. Just because Sylar is capable of rolling a car doesn't mean that's what happened here." She needed to believe that, she needed to believe that after their time together that he wouldn't be that casually vicious.

Mohinder nodded, "If that's what you believe then I won't say any more about it."

"Thank you for being honest with me. I know that it wasn't easy to talk about what happened between you."

"I probably should have told you a long time ago. But I was ashamed."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Mohinder." It certainly shed new light on the antagonism between the two men, at least on Mohinder's part. Sylar never seemed to care one way or the other that Mohinder hated him. "If there's anything I can do…"

"I'm going to be fine, Claire. I have some changes that I need to make and I think I'm ready to make them now. This may sound a bit odd but I hope you can believe me when I tell you that I wish everything works out the way you want it to. That you can make a difference in Sylar's future and be happy."

"You really mean that, don't you?"

"Yes, I do. It's taken me a long time but I think I've finally come to terms with my past. At least I'm trying." he smiled wanly.

"There's a lot of that going around these days," she offered.

"Indeed." Some more earnestly than others, he thought.

Claire leaned over and gave Mohinder a kiss on the cheek. "Take care."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sylar and Noah

Saint Matthew's

Where the heck had Claire gotten off to, Sylar wondered. He'd come straight back to the waiting area after his little conversation with Mohinder. He couldn't have been gone more than ten minutes. Wouldn't she have just waited? Insecurity reared its ugly head, unless of course, her father had managed to convince her that he'd had something to do with the accident. No, that was ridiculous. She was probably just sitting at his bedside while he slept. Sylar glared down the hallway unconsciously cracking his knuckles. There was no way she'd believe anything he had to say now. But then again, it never hurt to be sure.

Sylar strode down the hall, the overhead lights flaring brightly at his passage. He knew it was a bad idea. But there was far too much bad blood between them for it to ever end well now. The company could have helped him when he manifested that was true but it was Noah Bennet that primed him to kill. That fed him victims just so the company could gather data. That watched him slowly losing his mind and never once raised a finger to help. That tortured him nearly to the point of death… Claire thought she'd faced real evil when he had opened her skull and taken her ability but who was the real monster in this tragic tale? Frankenstein's monster or the man who created him?

Sylar leaned against the door frame. "The doctor says you're gonna make it. How unfortunate."

Noah scowled in his direction. "What do you want, Gabriel?"

He shrugged casually, "Just looking for my wife. I think you know her. Real pretty. Used to be your daughter I think."

"Honestly, I don't know how she manages to suppress her disgust." Noah shuddered dramatically. "She must want to take an acid bath." Sylar looked like he wanted to rip his head off. Noah knew from experience what he could do... would do, if provoked.

"She doesn't suppress anything, I promise. In fact, she's quite.. uninhibited in our interactions."

"You've really fucked up this time. You think Claire will just forgive you for trying to kill me? You think she'll let that go?"

"Try to kill you? I don't know what you're talking about. You need some more meds? You seem to be having some delusions. Should I get the nurse?" Sylar questioned flippantly. "You were in a car accident, Noah. I had nothing to do with it."

"Right. You flipped that car. I know it and you know it. I'm getting too close aren't I?"

Sylar gave him a disgusted shake of his head, "You are beyond pathetic. You really need to get a life and stay out of mine. Take it from someone who knows, your obsession with Claire isn't healthy. She's mine now and believe me, I take good care of her."

"You know it's really rather sad when you think about it. You bought into all of it. I mean you don't really believe that Claire wants to be with you? Seriously?" Noah shook his head in mock sympathy. "It was all part of the deal, the strategy to keep you on a leash and under control. And it worked. But it's not real. She doesn't really care about you."

"You forget that I can tell when I'm being lied to?"

Noah smiled, "I haven't forgotten anything. But you and I both know there are ways around the truth, lots of ways. She ever tell you that she loves you?" It was a gamble but Noah felt in his heart that there was no way his daughter would ever make such a declaration. "She hasn't has she? And you know what? She never will. No one could love something as vile as you, Gabriel. No matter what you do, how you try, you'll always be the same twisted monster. And you'll always be alone."

Sylar's eyes darkened. He had scored a direct hit. No matter what Sylar was evolving into, Noah knew that he still held onto a tiny fragment of humanity buried somewhere deep in his twisted soul. It was what fed Sylar's guilt over the things he'd done and what allowed them to play him over and over. The man wanted so badly to maintain some connection and that was his Achilles heel.

"Take a good look at your life, Noah. The only one alone.. is you." Sylar turned.

"I know the truth about the spheres." He had to take the risk, see if he could push Sylar into doing something rash.

Sylar stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly, his brow furrowed then a slow, vicious smile spread along his lips, "I'll give Claire a kiss for you."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sylar and Claire

Saint Matthew's Cafeteria

"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," Claire called out.

"I could say the same. Join me?" Sylar stood like a gentleman. The killer with impeccable manners, it was another one of his odd quirks.

"I could use some coffee right about now. Double shot." Claire slid into the booth and put her chin in her hands. Now that she was sure that her father would be fine the adrenaline she'd been riding was bottoming out.

"Here." Sylar handed her his cup. It was piping hot and nearly full.

"You know I'll drink all your coffee," Claire said as she sipped. "Mmm, now that is some strong coffee."

"Then I'll just get some more," his smile was cautious.

She really wasn't looking forward to this conversation but hopefully it would be the last time she had to question her husband as to whether he was still trying to kill her father. God, her life was strange. "I need you to tell me that you didn't try to kill my father and Mohinder."

Sylar sighed, "Fair enough. No Claire, I didn't try to kill your father and Mohinder."

"But you knew they were following us all along. You threatened Mohinder."

Sylar stood, cup in hand. "Define threaten."

"Don't you dare do that, they could have died."

"I know that, Claire. Come on. When I realized Mohinder was here I went to him to find out what was going on. Then I figured out your dad was behind it and I tried to warn Mohinder away. And when that didn't work… I came to you. Why would I go to all that trouble then try to kill them?"

"Mohinder and I had an interesting conversation."

"I'll bet you did. Yet another member of the *I hate Sylar* fan club."

"You don't think he deserves to be? You killed his father and then you used him to get to other specials."

"I think he should be the president but that's nothing that you didn't already know about."

"You left out the part about sleeping with him."

Sylar stopped up short. Crap. This was not going to end well. "I didn't know you needed a roster of my past relationships."

"Don't try to turn this around on me. You should have told me about your past together. You should have told me at the cottage... but you didn't."

"I didn't tell you because there wasn't any point. Other than pissing you off how does knowing help us Claire? It's just one more thing for me to regret. Is full disclosure of my past relationships now a requirement?"

Claire folded her arms across her chest, "This isn't about tracking your past relationships and you know it." She could see his perspective as well. Sylar had to face all the horrible things he had done in the past. Manipulating Mohinder's feelings probably didn't rate very high. Still, it was about honesty. Claire nodded her head slowly, "All right. I still think you should have told me but I can see why you didn't. But I need to ask you something else."

"Oh come on Claire! Look, either you believe me when I say I didn't try and kill Noah and Mohinder or you don't. I'm not going to defend myself to you every time your dad gets a boo-boo."

"It's not about that. It's something else you haven't been forthcoming about. Have your powers... changed?"

Sylar stiffened imperseptively. Mohinder had certainly been a busy boy. No doubt Bennet had told him all about what had happened in New York. "My powers are constantly changing, every time I add an ability..."

"That's not what I mean," she interrupted.

Sylar schooled his face into a mask of calm though his heart rate had jumped.

"Mohinder told me a few things..."

"Did he now," Sylar couldn't keep the sneer out of his tone. Apparently, Mohinder still hadn't learned his lesson about the consequences of coming up against him. It looked like he would need a more forceful reminder.

"Don't get defensive. I'm just asking you to be honest with me. I need to know if your abilities have, well, grown into something more."

"I don't know what you mean." Ignorance was bliss but in this case it didn't make for much of a lie. He'd have to come up with something better or all the hard won progress he'd made with his wife would end up for naught.

"Don't do that. Please. Just be honest with me," Claire pleaded. She had to make him understand.

"I am being honest with you. I don't know what lies Mohinder is spreading but he has an agenda. Not that I'm blaming him, ok. I'm not. I get why he hates me and he has every right. But his perception is clouded. To him I'll always be a monster, nothing more. And there's nothing I can do to change that perception. There are some things you can't be forgiven for and this is one of them."

"You didn't answer my question," she persisted.

Sylar tried to look contrite. "I lied about my abilities ok. I didn't confess to everything I could do." He shrugged, "Just in case the whole deal fell apart I would have something I could use in my defense. Let's face it, your grandmother is about as trustworthy as I am. I didn't know for sure that she wasn't just trying to draw me in because Primatech wanted to experiment on me again or flat out kill me. It wasn't anything more than that. Noah's been freaking out about it ever since and now he's managed to drag Mohinder back into the whole mess. You know I backed off baiting your dad. This whole flare-up was unintentional on my part."

Claire nodded slowly. It all sounded reasonable. Far more reasonable that her father's assumption that Sylar had cracked the god principle. In the end, there was no proof that what had happened was anything more than what it seemed, an accident. And while a case could be made that Sylar had reason to want her dad and Mohinder dead, it just wasn't a good enough reason in her opinion. Every horrible thing that Sylar had done in the past was directly related to his ability and what he did to satisfy it. He didn't kill indiscriminately, not even when he went after the specials themselves. Sylar would have to have a damn good reason to risk such a move and nothing she had heard was any different from the norm, even when that norm was anything but.

She had to believe her husband. She did believe her husband. Deep down, Claire realized that her memory was perhaps a little selective but she was so sure that Sylar wouldn't have crossed that line, not now. Besides… she'd come too far to go back now.

Claire walked slowly over to where her husband stood expectantly and she melted against him. "My father is out of the woods. There's no reason for me to stay here. What do you say we head home and start this new life of ours?"

"We're good then?"

"We're better than good." Now was the time. He'd put it on the line and it was time she did the same for him. "I should have told you this before but I was upset and more than a little scared. No excuse. You deserve to know how I feel. "I love you too, Sylar."

Sylar just stood there dumbfounded. "You're crazy."

Claire laughed, "Not exactly the response I was expecting. But I can work with it."

Sylar smiled.


	10. Part 10

Kind of a short chapter but at least its something. I just wanted to mention a thank you to all the people that have been placing this story on their alert. I don't have that many reviews but I'm assuming you wouldn't place it on alert if you didn't like it so thank you. And as always, a personal thank you to everyone that took a minute to review. Your support is appreciated.

Angela and Peter

Petrelli Mansion, New York

Peter headed towards the patio. His mother liked to take her coffee there on warm mornings. There had been an "incident". He didn't have all the details but it seemed Sylar was involved which couldn't be good. It was troubling but hardly surprising. "I just got off the phone with Claire. So Mom, what really happened?"

"Good morning, Peter." Angela looked up from her morning paper. "Just an accident, that's all. No one was seriously injured."

"An accident. You sure about that?" He was anything but convinced. "I mean if Sylar knew that Noah and Mohinder were following them then it stands to reason he'd do something about it."

Angela fluttered her hand in his direction as if dismissing the idea would make it any less true. "Like what? Kill his wife's father? How exactly would that fit into his plans for rehabilitation?"

"Assuming he has those plans, you mean. And that's a pretty big assumption on your part." Peter sat down across the table from his mother, "You really believe he wants another chance?" If he was going to become involved then he needed to know what he was up against. Was this really an attempt at redemption or just a killer's sick, twisted game?

Angela nodded, "Yes, I do. I think he gets his desires confused at times. His gift can do that… as you're already aware." Angela poured herself a coffee. "That's why it's so important that Sylar have people around him that are committed to his rehabilitation instead of provoking bad behavior. Would you like some?" She motioned to the gently steaming pot.

"No thanks," Peter mulled over what his mother had said. The company had spent the better part of three years either trying to kill or contain Sylar and it hadn't worked out well for anyone involved. Now in trying instead to help the killer, he'd become more mentally stable plus focused on something other than absorbing abilities. All that in little more than a year… he only wished the company had done the right thing in the beginning and saved all those lives. "So they're on their way home?"

"Mm, they should already be there. Claire called just after they left the hospital." Angela sipped her coffee daintily, "By the way I invited them to dinner tomorrow night. I thought we might as well start your plan to befriend him."

Peter rolled his eyes, "It's not a _plan_, mom. I'm trying to help."

"Yes, yes I'm sure you are," she patted him on the hand. "I invited Nathan too."

Peter's eyebrows shot up, "Seriously?"

She nodded.

"Is he coming?" He hadn't really heard much from Nathan since the whole Pinehurst fiasco. With all that had happened, he couldn't say he blamed his brother for wanting to take a step back. Hearing that your own little brother had killed you in the future wasn't exactly good for the relationship. Nathan had forgiven him but that didn't mean that he had forgotten. And now with Sylar a "member of the family" Nathan had buried himself in his job and his public role, wanting little to do with any of the family.

"He made it very clear that he would not be spending any time with a, how did he put it, psychopathic mutant. So I'm taking that as a definitive no." She added a couple of lumps of sugar and stirred. "All things considered, I think he's being a bit judgmental."

"Even if he doesn't believe in the whole redeeming Sylar plan you'd think he could at least do it for Claire." He loved his big brother dearly but hated when he reverted into his selfish bastard persona. Claire was his daughter and she'd given up so much to try and make this work. She given up any chance she'd had for a normal life in order to keep Angela's apocalyptic future from happening. The least he could do is check in on her and make sure she was ok.

"You know your brother when he's made up his mind, Peter. I wouldn't hold my breath," she dismissed. "So you're still committed to helping me with Sylar?

"I should be committed you mean," Peter quipped, "And the answer's yes. I meant what I said. But I'm not going to help you meddle with the future. I'm doing this for Claire's sake. I'll make the offer but if Sylar won't go for it then that's as far as it goes. No games."

Angela's sighed lightly in exasperation, "You do realize it won't be as easy as that, don't you? Sylar's not just going to accept what you say."

"Why not?" Peter crossed his arms. He was well familiar with his mother's machinations. "He can tell if I'm not being sincere."

"Sincerity isn't really the issue. Sylar still harbors some… hostility. The man can carry a grudge. I've managed to smooth over many events of the past but he's just not an easy nut to crack."

The definitive word there being "nut".

Angela gave him a look. "Sylar is still playing at his own agenda but now he's starting to realize that maybe there is another way for him to live. That maybe he has a reason to fight against his nature. Family is very important to him."

"Yeah?" Peter commented incredulously. "He killed his own mother didn't he? There's family values for you."

"She wasn't really his mother, dear." Angela offered as if talking about nothing more serious than the weather.

"Like that makes it any better!" God, what was wrong with his mother? How could she be so callous? It was like she could turn her emotions on and off like a switch.

In the same calm, casual voice she replied, "Not to compare apples and oranges but you tried to kill me… remember?"

"I couldn't help it! I had…" Peter stammered to a halt.

Angela smiled grimly.

"I had Sylar's ability," he finished. "Point taken". Peter took a deep breath. "It's just hard sometimes when I think about all the people he's hurt. It still makes me angry. But I do understand," he acknowledged. "About seven?"

"Seven sounds fine."

Angela and Claire

Primatech, Hartsdale, New York

"Hey," Claire bounced into Angela's office with a smile on her face. She plopped down in the nearest chair, tossing her purse on the floor by her feet.

"Hey, yourself." Angela studied her granddaughter's face. "You seem happy."

"The hospital said that my dad and Mohinder are out of the woods and should be out in a few days." Claire paused, her smile introspective, "Hmm, you know, I think I am. I'm happy and more importantly, I'm happy without feeling guilty about being happy. Make sense?"

Angela nodded, "It does, actually." Angela came around and sat on the edge of her desk. "I take it that the trip was a success then… despite the hiccup? Everything worked out… with Sylar?"

Claire blushed a little, "Maybe." She looked up at Angela, "It's ok, isn't it?"

"Claire..." Angela reached out with her hand and brushed her granddaughter's cheek. "You deserve every happiness that life can offer you. You have nothing to feel guilty about."

"Even if it's Sylar that makes me happy?" she asked timidly.

The older woman sighed, "Take it from someone who's been around the block a few times, you might only get one shot at it in your lifetime. If you get that chance, you have to grab it with both hands and give it everything you've got. Sylar should get his chance at redemption and you should have your chance at love."

Love? Claire's eyes widened. It was the first time anyone had ever said the L word out loud with regard to Sylar and her. She'd only admitted the feeling to herself in recent months. Harboring the word, deep in her thoughts, like a dirty little secret. But now it was out there for all the world to see. How did she feel about that?

In her own heart, she had resigned herself to the fact that she was in love with a killer. She wasn't sure exactly how it had happened. Sometimes, you had to look long and hard to see it. But it was there, something in Sylar, something that drew her to him. She wanted to make a life with him.

Could she accept what that would mean when everyone else knew about it? Would they look at her as if she were insane? Would her father tell her she was disgusting and morally bankrupt? She took a deep breath. In the end it didn't matter, she wouldn't let it. She knew what she wanted and who she wanted to be with… crazy or not.

"Claire?" Angela said with a small laugh, "You went somewhere just then. I hope I didn't overstep."

"No, no you didn't," her smile returned. "It's just coming to the realization of what I feel hasn't been easy. You're the first one to see it. But its ok, it's more than ok."

The phone rang. Angela gave her a little pat and then picked up the receiver. "Yes?" there was a pause, "I'm already aware but if we need to make other arrangements.." Angela put her hand over the mouthpiece, "Could you give me a moment, dear?"

"Oh sure, I'll just grab a soda." Claire picked up her purse and rummaged for a couple of quarters. She smiled at Angela and fairly flew from the room, feeling another weight fall from her shoulders.

Angela watched her leave with interest, a calculating expression on her face. As the door closed, she spoke into the phone, "Mitchell, I'll call you right back. There's something I need to attend to. Thank you." Leaning over, she opened the right-hand desk drawer and pulled out a small plastic pack.

Walking around the desk, she picked up Claire's purse, reached in, and retrieved an identical plastic compact. She opened it and noted that there were five pills missing in the round. She opened the new case and popped out the same amount then dropped it into Claire's purse, pocketing the original.

It shouldn't take a long. She had seen more than one version of the future and so had Peter, it was the right thing to do. They could fix it. Besides, if it turned out in the end that Sylar couldn't be reformed, they would have his child. A child that might well be even more powerful than his father.

The door opened and Claire peeked her head in, "Done?"

Angela motioned her in, "Yes, yes. Now come sit down and let's plan our family dinner."


	11. Chapter 11

Claire and Sylar, Angela and Peter

Dinner at the Petrellis

"Tell me again why we need to go to this dinner?" Sylar grabbed his leather jacket and slid into it.

"Because we were invited… and its family."

"Uh huh. _Your_ family."

"Yours too now so don't even try and get out of it."

Sylar shook his head adamantly, "I'm not claiming that bunch. You remember the last time Angela tried to "adopt" me? It all went to hell, quick and bloody."

Claire put her hands on her hips. "It's just Angela and Peter…" she seemed to think better of it. "Promise me your best behavior."

Sylar flashed the doe eyes.

"Nu uh. Not _even_ gonna work. Promise me there won't be any problems with you and Peter. This is our first step into the world of normal and I don't want it over before it begins."

"You really need to give up on this idea of being normal. It won't end well."

"I'm defining normal as no one killing or otherwise causing injury or mayhem. That better?"

"Eh," Sylar shrugged. Claire crossed her arms over her chest and Sylar grinned, "Oh come on, Claire. Relax. I'm not holding any grudges… much. Peter turned out to be… not so bad. I mean he's got that whole boy-scout, gotta save the world, thing going on but I can deal with that…" One way or the other.

She eyed him.

"Non-violently," he clarified. "As long as he doesn't start trying to push my buttons everything will be fine," he assured.

Claire sighed lightly, "The problem with that is your "buttons" get relabeled with alarming frequency."

"Well, you could always offer me some vigorous stress relief before we go. That way I'll be too mellow to cause any mayhem."

Claire arched a brow. "Cute."

"I like to think so," he grinned.

She leaned into him, "Not such a bad idea though."

Sylar's grin grew. "Oh yeah?" He wrapped his arms around her and she nodded with a mischievous grin of her own.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The Petrelli Mansion

"Claire!" Angela lightly kissed each cheek. "I almost thought you'd decided not to come."

"I'm so sorry we're late. We got held up. It's all my fault really."

"It certainly was," Sylar purred. He wrapped his arm around her from behind. Dipping his head down, he gave her a light kiss on the neck.

Angela looked from him to Claire and smiled. "I'm glad to see you two are getting on so well."

Sylar straightened slightly, "Oh, and why's that?"

"What do you mean, why?" Angela put her arm around Sylar's and fairly dragged them both into the living room. A table had been set at one end of the room with a buffet of appetizers of all kinds. "I want my granddaughter to be happy, you know. Simple as that."

"Nothing is ever simple with you, Angela.," Sylar reminded her.

"I completely agree," a familiar New York accented voice interjected.

"Peter!" Claire squealed and ran over to her favorite and only uncle. Throwing her arms around him she exclaimed, "I'm so glad you decided to come. She pulled away, "It means a lot to me."

Peter leaned over and gave her a kiss to the forehead. "We're family."

"Does that include me?" Sylar called out, an unpleasant smirk on his face.

Peter sighed. Not even five minutes in and already Sylar was baiting him. "Unfortunately, it does." Peter strode over to where Sylar stood. "And since we seem to be stuck with you, I for one, am going to make the best of it." Peter extended his hand. "What about you?"

Sylar cocked his head, Ability flowing through him like cool water. There didn't seem to be any underlying motive to Peter's offer. He was getting better at not just reading lies but reading intent. Soon he might have his own special brand of "spidey" sense. Sylar took his hand and shook. "So let's see, I've gone from brother to nephew," he quipped.

"Don't push it." Angela chimed in.

Claire was fairly bouncing with excitement. "Come on, Peter, I want to hear more about your travels. How you spend your year."

"Yeah, Claire was telling me all about your pilgrimage." Oh, this was going to be good. Any chance to get under Peter's skin was a chance worth taking in his less than humble opinion.

Peter and Angela locked eyes.

"We don't have any secrets, so yeah, she told me why you needed the roto-rooter of the soul." Sylar shook his head, "We never really talked about it. Were you really that desperate to be a hero? How did that work out for you, having my ability?" Poisonous intent dripped from his words. "I mean besides trying to kill Angela."

"Sylar", Claire reached out and placed her hand on his arm.

"We have a lovely buffet set up. You should try the crab canapés." Angela distracted.

"It's ok," Peter offered. He wasn't about to give the smug killer the satisfaction of knowing just how much the whole thing had shaken his faith. His whole world had been turned upside down. His notions of good and evil had been clear cut until he had been given a taste of Sylar's power. Then everything that he stood for had been discarded like yesterday's lunch. He was still disgusted with himself.

"You already know how it was. You have to deal with it every day and honestly I don't know how you manage to stay human…" Peter paused unsure as to how far he wanted to take it.

Sylar's eyes narrowed to slits. Claire tensed next to him as she felt the energy around her husband build. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"… but you are." Peter looked to Claire then back to Sylar. "Still human, I mean."

"Really? That's not what you thought last time we "got together," Sylar queried lightly. He was really curious now what Peter and the wicked witch of the West were trying to accomplish.

"Last time you were still determined to kill everyone I knew." Peter took a deep breath. "And last time I didn't understand you as well as I do now."

Sylar smiled but it was anything but amusement. "You think you understand me?"

"Sylar." Claire tugged at his arm. "You promised me a pleasant evening and I'm holding you to that."

"You don't think this is pleasant? I'm having a very pleasant time myself. Good friends and good conversation. How about you Peter?" Sylar chuckled, "Everything rainbows and waterfalls?"

"It's been a challenging year." Well, it was now or never, Peter supposed. If he was going to reach out to Sylar then he needed to start by just being honest and open. "Our little time together gave me a lot to think about. But I think I finally have my head on straight. Which if I'm to understand from my mother, the same goes for you these days."

"How's that?" Their little group gravitated to the seating area near the fireplace. Sylar kept his eye on Angela looking for anything that might offer some clue as to why this little family affair was so important to her. She was up to something, he was sure.

"Sylar has been doing very well actually. He makes a formidable agent as you can well imagine. We've all been well pleased with his progress. Haven't we dear?" Angela queried casually as she daintily sipped from her teacup.

Sylar nodded in response. "Angela almost never misses an opportunity to pat me on the head. I'm not sure who she's trying harder to convince, me or herself."

"Come on now, you have been doing really well. Angela's not the only one that's proud of you." Claire leaned into her husband. She'd always refrained from PDA but things were different now. They were a real couple so there was no reason why they couldn't act like a normal couple would, super powers be damned.

Sylar opened his mouth with a flip response on his tongue but instead popped a crab puff into his mouth.

"Wow, that's impressive, Claire. You managed to muzzle him. If I hadn't seen it for myself I wouldn't have believed it," Peter quipped.

"You must be feeling awfully secure to think you can trade barbs with me," Sylar shot back.

Peter shrugged, "I don't have anything to worry about do I? We're family now. We can be friends. Right?"

"Friends?" Sylar scoffed. "Did you have to practice that in the mirror before you could say it with a straight face?"

"You want me to say I'm happy about you being with Claire? Happy about you being here at all?"

Sylar crossed his arms over his chest. "Since it won't do you any good to lie… then do tell."

Claire shot a pleading look at Angela who merely brought her finger to her lips in response. She understood that this little skirmish was necessary. This wasn't Sylar spoiling for a fight. He was testing the perimeters, just as Peter was doing. They were figuring it out. As much as Claire might not understand the male need for a pecking order this was actually a good thing. It bode well for Peter being able to create a relationship with Sylar. Angela knew that no matter what, Peter would be honest. Sylar might not like what he had to say but he would appreciate it… and he would come to trust it. It would be awhile before she could tell if it would have a positive outcome on her dreams of the future but she had high hopes.

"Happy? No. Hopeful? Yes." Peter leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees then rested his chin in his hands. "I had to do a lot of soul searching when Mom asked me if I would come here tonight and reach out to you. There were a lot of reasons not to and one big reason that I should. Claire." Peter looked to his niece and smiled. "She's my concern in all this. She wants to make your relationship work. She… cares for you. So here I am."

"And you're hopeful because?" Sylar prompted.

"Because of that new understanding I mentioned. Before I went through all that stuff last year, I wouldn't have been able to see past the things you've done. If you want to say that your ability knocked me off my high moral pedestal a bit, that's fair. Turns out that things aren't as black and white as I thought they should be."

Sylar didn't respond but Claire beamed, "Thanks, Peter. I really mean that. It's been so hard sometimes, what, with both my dads… not being supportive."

"Assholes," Sylar muttered under his breath.

"Language," Angela scolded lightly.

"It means so much to me that we can put our family back together. And you…" Claire turned to Sylar who merely raised a brow. "You mean so much to me. I know it's not easy for you but that you try for my sake…well." she leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Sylar's eyes widened and a faint blush rose on his cheeks. "One word Petrelli and so help me I'll pitch you out another window."

Peter looked from Claire's mischievous little grin to Sylar's obvious discomfort and smiled. As crazy as it all sounded, maybe, just maybe, Angela's crazy idea to make friends, might actually be a good thing. He shook his head. "Not a word," he promised.

A small bell sounded from the dining room. "Well, it looks like dinner is ready. Shall we?" Angela stood and offered an arm to each man. Things were going according to plans. This was going to work out just fine in the end. More dangerous words were never spoken.


End file.
